Page 128 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

“Never said I didn’t believe in it. Just always thought the whole eye-for-an-eye thing a bit archaic. But I wouldn’t be upset if she got a really bad case of diarrhoea and shit herself while stuck in a traffic jam.”

Willow laughed. She couldn’t help it. The mischievous glint in Nan’s eyes sparkled.

Nan pulled Willow into her arms. The faint scent of roses comforting as they embraced. “You’re good for him. I’ve heard enough chatter between you all this morning to get a grasp on what was going on. It made no sense at all to me until I heard that call. People always wanting their pound of flesh from you, eh?”

“Pound of flesh?”

“Merchant of Venice. Luke and Matt studied it for GCSE English. I don’t even remember the quote properly, but it’s about everyone wanting their pound of flesh, and he gets out of it by saying they can have the pound of flesh as long as they take no blood. I don’t know. Something like that. Shakespeare always was a macabre little clever clogs. I’ve lost my train of thought now. Pound of flesh. Oh yes, everyone always wants something from you. Does Luke?”

Willow shook her head. “He hasn’t asked me for anything.”

“Well then. All this family needs are more faces to love. And grandbabies. May I?” Nan asked, her hand over Willow’s stomach.

Willow smiled. “Please.”

Nan rubbed her hand over her bump. “This will be my first, you know.”

“Will you still think of it as your first, even though ... ?”

“Luke’s mine as much as the other four. When he was fourteen, he hung over that sink while a cut he’d got at rugby bled. At sixteen, after his first under-age drinking binge, he was throwing up in that toilet. At eighteen, I held him in this bathroom, just like I’m holding you, when his dad died. He’s ours. Just like you are, now.”

“Thank you, Nan.” The idea of belonging settled the turmoil her call with Riley had caused. “Knowing does help.”

“I bet it does. Now, go grab some of those sandwiches before Alex arrives and eats everything, including the plate they’re sat on, and I’ll make you a fresh cup of tea.”

“Nan?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you still keep me if I told you I don’t like tea?”

“Yes, but I might introduce a three-month probationary period. Do you want a cup of decaf coffee?”

Willow laughed. “Yes, please.”

“I’ll give you a minute.” When Nan opened the door, Izabel was jumping up and down outside.

“What’s got your knickers in a knot, now?” Nan asked.

“Willow, Luke just joined Shamaze.”

“What? He hates it. Why would he ... oh. Oh!”

Willow opened the app and put in the profile name Izabel gave her. As James Arthur sang about meeting in the dark and being scared of the woman he loved letting him go, images of their life appeared on her phone screen. But they weren’t images she’d taken. They were candid and raw.

An image of them in bed in Mallorca. She was still asleep; Luke was turned to face her, pretending to lick the tip of her nose. One of her walking down the street several footsteps ahead of him, pointing something out. Their hands linked on his lap as they ate in the apartment. It ended with one of her taken from onstage when she was talking to Cerys in the wings in Detroit. He must have taken it right in the middle of their gig and she’d never noticed.

This one had text on it.

Just because it began unconventionally doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

But it was the words beneath that made her cry.

I can’t solve all your problems, but I can make sure you never face them alone. #Willowsdilf

“I can’t believe he did that,” Willow said, watching it all over again.

“Me either, to be honest. Let’s go wait for him downstairs.”

---