‘Okay, Dad.’ Sarah reaches for Mum’s hand.
‘Good god, Sarah, do you have one blue fingernail?’
‘Yep, and so does Cat.’ Mum frowns at me over her shoulder and huffs out a sigh. And sometimes Mum doesn’t surprise me in the least.
We’re just outside the front door, me walking Dad more so than the other way around, and I notice three latecomers coming up the castle’s driveway.
‘Oh, you go on ahead, we’ll follow,’ says Mum, her passive-aggressive politeness telegraphing how impolite she thinks it is to arrive late to a wedding. ‘Can’t have you arriving after the bride,’ she adds for good measure.
As they walk by, Cécile gives me a taut, smug smile, Louis waves sheepishly then quickens his pace, and it only occurs to me after she’s passed by, that the third person in their party is Vanessa, Jean-Luc’s ex-wife.
‘Well, fuck,’ I say out loud.