Page 60 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

“Nan, your favourite grandson is here,” Jase shouted, like always. He carried another bunch of carnations, but Matt had beat him to it by bringing Nan two bunches that were already in her favourite vase.

Matt tugged an envelope from his back pocket and shoved it into Jase’s hands. “For Nan. From both of us. You were right about the trip,” he said quickly.

Jase took it and glanced suspiciously at Matt as Nan rushed out of the kitchen again to hug him.

“Trust me,” Matt mouthed.

“Happy birthday, Nan,” Jase said, handing the envelope and flowers over. “It’s from me and Matt.”

Nan grinned. “Bless you both for thinking of me. You shouldn’t be spending your money on me like this.”

“How the fuck do you look fresh as a daisy?” Matt said to Alex after Nan had opened her gift and squealed with excitement.

“Fast metabolism and can hold my liquor, unlike you pussies.”

Matt shook his head. “I call bullshit. My guess is you pulled a fast one. Tossing the drinks over your shoulder or some shit.”

Alex grinned. “As if. You’ve never been able to hold your own against me.”

“Still the runt.”

“Maybe. Although I wouldn’t call this”—Alex flexed his bicep—“small.”

“Put it away, you fucking weirdo,” Alex and Ben’s dad said as he lumbered through the front door. A solid man who loved whiskey and control.

“Hello, Uncle Nigel. Good to see you in fine form today,” Matt said sarcastically.

“Go make yourself useful and get me a drink,” he said, dropping into the large armchair.

Matt shook his head but did as Nigel said. Sure, he could ignore the guy, but then he’d just get all riled up and ruin the day for everyone, especially his Auntie Pat who he’d take it out on later.

Matt grabbed a glass out of Nan’s cupboard and reached for the whiskey she kept on the shelf next to the fridge. Purely medicinal, she used to say. But he knew she loved a sip at night.

“Wait,” Nan whispered quietly. She opened the pan cupboard, ferreted inside for a moment, then handed the bottle to Matt.

“What’s this?” Matt asked, turning the bottle.

“Alcohol free whiskey. Mix three-quarters of this to a quarter of the real thing. He’s too stupid to realise and by the time he does, he’ll be home.”

Matt grinned. “Sneaky, Nan. I love it.”

“Well, it’s also a bit cheaper, and I worked too hard for my pension for my son-in-law to drink it away every time he comes over. Put some Cilla or Tom on the record player, would you, love? We need some music.”

“What about some Elton? Freddie?”

Nan shook her head. “We’ll save Freddie for when your Uncle Allan is over later. And I’m not in the mood for Elton. That’s my cleaning day music and it will get me all confused and reaching for the Hoover.”

“Fine. I’ll put some Tom on.” He took Nigel his drink, smirking as the guy smacked his lips and declared it good shit.

He ran his fingers along the spines of his nan’s record collection, pulling out an album celebrating Tom Jones’s early years. Just as Tom started to sing about things not being unusual, he heard Luke and Izabel’s names called out.

He’d not seen her since she’d tried to sprint out of his apartment two days ago. They’d texted, a poor substitute for the taste of her, the scent of her. But it didn’t come close to listening to her talk, the way she could spin everything in a way that made perfect sense. The way she could rebuild his floundering confidence in a sentence.

And, Lord, the pretty dress she was wearing with little ankle boots gave him ideas he couldn’t pull off in Nan’s packed, small living room. He watched as she hugged Chaya, then his Auntie Pat. When her eyes found his, she smiled, and he was surprised just how much it made his heart squeeze.

After hugging Nan and handing her a gift bag and a container of what looked like pavlova, she stepped up the stairs and he watched her legs through the spindles as they disappeared out of sight.

“Matt, do me a favour and go get those black folding chairs from under my bed, would you?” Nan said.

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