Get a wriggle on - hurry up/get moving
Tea - Dinner. We also quite enjoy the hot drink and, no, we don’t get confused.
Muesli Bar - The closest equivalent would be a granola bar I think
Macca’s - McDonald’s
Thongs - Flip Flops. Why, what did you think it was?
Tracky - Tracksuit. And for future convenience, ‘trackies’ are sweatpants.
Wishing Well - Australians rarely register for wedding gifts, instead guests will leave cards with money in a decorative box at the reception.
Kingy - an incredibly creative nickname based on Alastor’s last name, King
Darc (pronounced DARSE) - another creative nickname based on Trent’s last name, Darcy
3
Trent
“Glad you’re here, mate,” I say to Alastor, propping the wishing well up on the back of the couch. “Can youpleasehelp me convince Xav here to take this off my hands?”
“I’m not taking it,” Xavier says in that same adamant tone. And even though he’s standing behind me, I can tell his face is arranged in a hard glare.
“I’ll take it,” Alastor says with a grin. I’m only about eighty per cent sure he’s kidding.
“No oneis taking it,” Xavier growls. “It was given under false pretences. It needs to be returned to all the guests.”
I sigh and turn around to face him. “Xav, trust me, no one wants this money back. If they did, they’d have taken it last night.”
“But it’s not right…” His face is screwed up in obvious discomfort and I can’t help feeling bad for the guy.
“Think of it as a cover charge,” Alastor suggests. “I mean, last night was a roaring party with an open bar and free food and live music. Do you really think those envelopes contain enough to cover the two hundred a head or whatever it was you guys forked out?”
“That’s not really the point of a wishing well, Alastor,” Xavier says with an eye roll. “It’s not there so the couple can recoup their losses.”
“Of course that’s the point!”
“Look, if you don’t feel comfortable taking the money then at least donate it to charity or something,” I suggest.
He considers it for a long moment before finally letting out a long sigh and nodding. “Yeah, okay, I guess. If it’ll make you both shut up about it.”
I beam at him. “Awesome! Also, I have this…” I set the post box on the floor and then crouch down to open it, retrieving a book with a shimmering silver cover and a white ribbon binding. The guestbook from last night.
When I stand up and offer it to Xavier, he actually takes a step back, waving me away as though I’m offering him a vial of smallpox.
“Why the hell would I wantthat?”
I shrug. “Some people wrote some nice things.” I only flipped through the book briefly, but there were a lot of encouraging messages about how Xavier’s a great guy and how people feel lucky to know him. The kind of things that would definitely lessen the sting of the rejection he must be feeling right now.
“Can I have a look at that?” Alastor asks, holding his hand out.
I shrug and hand the book to him.
“So, when are you off to Thailand?” I ask Xavier.
He stares at me as though I have two heads. “What are you talking about? Why would I be going to Thailand? That trip was for myhoneymoon.”