Page 62 of Love ad Lib
‘Hmmm. About eight thousand? Around two thousand of them are women.’
‘Yes or no!’ Estelle banged her knife on the table. ‘Two questions left.’
‘Is your job contentious?’
Eveline glanced across the table at Gram-Gram, who sniffed loudly and turned her head away.
‘Sometimes.’
‘One more!’ Estelle cried.
Police officer?No. There would be way more than eight thousand in the UK.Who else works in schools every week?
She remembered Henry talking about Estelle’s best friend and a light bulb went off in her head. ‘Oh my god, are you the vicar?’
‘Fuck’s sake!’ Estelle dropped her knife with a clatter. Everyone apart from Gram-Gram and Eveline cheered and clapped.
Eveline nodded. ‘And part-time pig farmer.’
Holy shit. Libby was buzzing with questions. ‘What’s the most contentious part of your job?’
Eveline hesitated, looking across at Gram-Gram again.
‘Where’s the food? We’re not waiting on that boy, are we?’ Gram-Gram asked, loudly.
As if on cue, a man entered the room wearing a shirt that needed ironing.
‘Sorry I’m late, everyone,’ he said gruffly, taking the empty seat between Estelle and Summer, opposite Henry and Libby. He hugged Estelle. ‘Happy almost-birthday, Stelle.’
Estelle ruffled his messy hair and poked his scruffy beard. ‘Glad to see you made an effort.’
‘It’s a clean shirt.’ He grinned, then leaned across the table to shake Henry’s hand. ‘Mate.’ He smiled, ‘it’s been a while.’ He turned his attention to Libby. ‘Hi, you must be Libby? I’m Finn, Henry’s first, and therefore the best, best friend.’
‘Nice to meet you. Who’s his second?’
‘Jack,’ Finn replied. ‘He joined Foxbrooke Infants a week after us, so got second place.’ He glanced at Henry. ‘Is he coming this time?’
Henry shook his head.
‘Finn.’ Summer poked him in the ribs. ‘Where’s my hug?’
He turned towards her and hesitated, then patted her shoulder and smiled. ‘Hey, Summer.’
She pouted. ‘What’s your costume for the party on Sunday?’
‘I’m not going.’
‘What? But you have to,’ Summer whined. ‘Everyone’s going to be there. Don’t be so fucking boring. You’re as bad as Henry.’
‘There’s a costume party on Sunday night?’ Libby asked.
‘Yes,’ replied Summer. ‘Who are you going as?’
Libby glanced at Henry.
He shrugged. ‘I didn't know. We don’t have to dress up.’
‘Ugh!’ said Summer. ‘Yes, you do.’
