was already some open and
Dave asked Barry what
he
was having.
‘I’m on the beer for now,’ Barry said.
‘Sounds good to me.’
‘This is amazing,’ Marina said when Angie reappeared. ‘It’s huge.’
The kitchen had been large enough already before being extended out towards the garden, an orangery-type glass roof now sitting
above what was a conservatory-cum-dining area decorated in a Mediterranean style. Angie talked about the feeling of space,
and told Marina where she had bought the dining table and the big terracotta pots.Barry pointed out where the RSJs had been fitted. Something jazzy and melodic was playing quietly, though the source of it
was not immediately obvious. Angie saw Marina looking around, finally spotting the white speakers mounted high on the wall,
and said, ‘Jamie Cullum.’
‘I’m surprised you’ve done such a lot to the place,’ Dave said to Barry. All four were standing in the conservatory looking
out into a large garden. It had been a bright, warm day, but now it was clouding over a little and the light was starting
to go.
‘It’s what I do, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly,’ Dave said. ‘I’d’ve thought
because
you’re a builder, it might have been the last thing you wanted to do. You know, like the cobbler’s children always going
barefoot.’
‘Come again?’ Barry said.
‘Where are the kids?’ Marina asked.
Angie nodded upwards. ‘Laura and Luke are upstairs with a couple of mates and some pizzas. I should probably get them down
to say hello,’ she said. ‘Prove they’ve got
some
manners.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Marina said. ‘Leave them to it.’
Dave turned to Barry. ‘And you’ve got one of your own, right? A son, is it?’
‘Nick,’ Barry said. ‘He’s with his mum.’
Jamie Cullum sang uninterrupted for those long few seconds until the doorbell rang.
‘There they are,’ Angie said.
When Barry had followed Angie out of the kitchen, Marina raised an eyebrow at Dave.
He said, ‘I can’t bloody stand Jamie Cullum.’
Marina nodded out towards the front door and whispered, ‘The kid’s a bit of a sore point, I reckon.’
They listened to the noises of greeting, the exclamations and the kisses on the cheek, until, half a minute later, Angie came
back into the kitchen carrying an enormous bunch of lilies.
‘Look at these …’
Ed, Sue and then finally Barry appeared in the doorway and, onceDave and Marina had welcomed the newcomers – exchanging enthusiastic kisses and greetings of their own – more drinks were
organised while Angie dug around in a cupboard to find a vase for her flowers.
‘Your hair is amazing,’ Sue said to Marina.
Angie moved across to join them. ‘Yeah, I meant to say.’
Marina leaned towards the other two conspiratorially and said, ‘It was stupidly expensive, to be honest. I’m not sure Dave’s
too thrilled.’
‘Sod him,’ Sue said.
The women laughed. ‘Spot on,’ Angie said. ‘I mean it’s him you’re looking gorgeous for, isn’t it?’
On the other side of the kitchen, the men were talking about the football season that had recently finished. Barry was an
avid Arsenal fan, while Ed still followed Aston Villa, the team he had watched as a boy. On holiday, Dave had rashly confessed
to being a Manchester United supporter and now the other two happily took up where they had left off in Sarasota, mocking
his support for a team that, as a southerner, he had no natural affiliation for. Dave stood his ground, saying that he’d followed
them for years, but when Ed asked him to name half a dozen members of the current team he fell three short.
‘My mum knows more than that,’ Ed said. ‘And she’s got Alzheimer’s.’
Barry laughed and told Dave he was a lightweight.
‘You should always knock ten per cent off the cost of a visit to the hairdresser’s,’ Angie said to Marina and Sue.
‘Same with shoes and bags,’ Sue said.
‘We can hear you, you
Dave asked Barry what
he
was having.
‘I’m on the beer for now,’ Barry said.
‘Sounds good to me.’
‘This is amazing,’ Marina said when Angie reappeared. ‘It’s huge.’
The kitchen had been large enough already before being extended out towards the garden, an orangery-type glass roof now sitting
above what was a conservatory-cum-dining area decorated in a Mediterranean style. Angie talked about the feeling of space,
and told Marina where she had bought the dining table and the big terracotta pots.Barry pointed out where the RSJs had been fitted. Something jazzy and melodic was playing quietly, though the source of it
was not immediately obvious. Angie saw Marina looking around, finally spotting the white speakers mounted high on the wall,
and said, ‘Jamie Cullum.’
‘I’m surprised you’ve done such a lot to the place,’ Dave said to Barry. All four were standing in the conservatory looking
out into a large garden. It had been a bright, warm day, but now it was clouding over a little and the light was starting
to go.
‘It’s what I do, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly,’ Dave said. ‘I’d’ve thought
because
you’re a builder, it might have been the last thing you wanted to do. You know, like the cobbler’s children always going
barefoot.’
‘Come again?’ Barry said.
‘Where are the kids?’ Marina asked.
Angie nodded upwards. ‘Laura and Luke are upstairs with a couple of mates and some pizzas. I should probably get them down
to say hello,’ she said. ‘Prove they’ve got
some
manners.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Marina said. ‘Leave them to it.’
Dave turned to Barry. ‘And you’ve got one of your own, right? A son, is it?’
‘Nick,’ Barry said. ‘He’s with his mum.’
Jamie Cullum sang uninterrupted for those long few seconds until the doorbell rang.
‘There they are,’ Angie said.
When Barry had followed Angie out of the kitchen, Marina raised an eyebrow at Dave.
He said, ‘I can’t bloody stand Jamie Cullum.’
Marina nodded out towards the front door and whispered, ‘The kid’s a bit of a sore point, I reckon.’
They listened to the noises of greeting, the exclamations and the kisses on the cheek, until, half a minute later, Angie came
back into the kitchen carrying an enormous bunch of lilies.
‘Look at these …’
Ed, Sue and then finally Barry appeared in the doorway and, onceDave and Marina had welcomed the newcomers – exchanging enthusiastic kisses and greetings of their own – more drinks were
organised while Angie dug around in a cupboard to find a vase for her flowers.
‘Your hair is amazing,’ Sue said to Marina.
Angie moved across to join them. ‘Yeah, I meant to say.’
Marina leaned towards the other two conspiratorially and said, ‘It was stupidly expensive, to be honest. I’m not sure Dave’s
too thrilled.’
‘Sod him,’ Sue said.
The women laughed. ‘Spot on,’ Angie said. ‘I mean it’s him you’re looking gorgeous for, isn’t it?’
On the other side of the kitchen, the men were talking about the football season that had recently finished. Barry was an
avid Arsenal fan, while Ed still followed Aston Villa, the team he had watched as a boy. On holiday, Dave had rashly confessed
to being a Manchester United supporter and now the other two happily took up where they had left off in Sarasota, mocking
his support for a team that, as a southerner, he had no natural affiliation for. Dave stood his ground, saying that he’d followed
them for years, but when Ed asked him to name half a dozen members of the current team he fell three short.
‘My mum knows more than that,’ Ed said. ‘And she’s got Alzheimer’s.’
Barry laughed and told Dave he was a lightweight.
‘You should always knock ten per cent off the cost of a visit to the hairdresser’s,’ Angie said to Marina and Sue.
‘Same with shoes and bags,’ Sue said.
‘We can hear you, you
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