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“Sorry, Marcus. Childhood names.” I shrug at her.
“Sorry you got caught up in that mix up, Evie. They were told, but…,” she lifts her shoulders and sighs.
“Where are they all?” I ask, looking around furtively.
“In the spa. I would advise you to avoid that area right now. Someone might not get out alive.”
“Are all the women in there?” I ask incredulously.
“Yes. Well, except Orla, Anthony's wife. She refused to join them.”
“Ah, just as well. I had no intention of going. I might drive into the village instead. We were supposed to go yesterday, but didn’t get a chance. I need food first though.” I look around at the busy chateau, people running everywhere.
“Come with me. I’ll get Mike to fix you something.”
We walk through the chateau straight to the back and it’s much quieter here than I would expect with the number of people I suspect have been invited.
“Where is everyone?”
“The men have gone off in the ATVs. I think Marcus joined them, even a little late.” She tips her head towards me with a smirk. “A few others have arrived since and are milling around the bar outside. There’s heaters set up in case it gets a bit cold. Most of the entertainment tonight is outside in the tents.” She points down the gardens at a huge black tent—that looks like something you would see a circus perform in—surrounded by smaller white ones.
“Wow, you’ve gone all out,” I say in awe, staring at the massive canopies.
“You’ve no idea. Xander appears so friendly. Until he starts to organise things, then he turns into a tyrant.”
I start to laugh, “He was the same as a kid. No one dared take maps, or anything that put him in control, from him. There was always a fight.”
She leads me down to a delightful garden area and a selection of sandwiches appear as if by magic. I sit, quietly enjoying the spring sunshine and indulging in the offerings. There’s a gardener pottering around and I engage him in a bit of conversation. He’s young and enthusiastic and we get into a lovely chat about, yes, courtyards.
I’m standing with him, digging at some plants he’s showing me, when I hear a voice behind me. “Well, well, if it’s not Everett. Still grubbing around in the dirt, I see.”
I turn to look into the face of someone I recognise, but can’t remember his name. Looking around the group of five, I realise I know some of the faces, but most are unrecognisable—either bald or with obvious comb overs, and a few serious cases of dad bods. George, that’s his name. He was a bully, and damn mean. I remember him hitting Bug regularly when Kellen wasn’t around. We got into quite a few fights over it.
Deciding to pretend I don’t know them, I offer them the fakest of smiles. “Hi, my name’s Evie. I’m sorry, have we met?” What a bitch move, but old habits and all that. Probably not the best decision as he looks well pissed that I don’t know him.
He sneers at me. “Must be all that dirt you rolled around in, Everett. It's addled your brain. It's George Newsome.” He then points to each of his buddies, naming them.
I keep my smile mild and polite. “Oh, of course. Been a long time, but it’s nice to meet you all again. Well, I’ll no doubt catch up with you all later.”
As I go to move past them all, George puts his hand on my arm and stops me. “Not so fast, Everett. Why have you turned up? Desperate for his money, are you still? Heard you got knocked up and are claiming it’s his kid from way back. You always were white trailer trash. You had no right to him then, and you still don’t. Stay out of the way, trash.”
I can clearly see he thinks I will be intimidated. I look down at his hand on my arm and, channelling Jackson, I look up at him slowly. “George, is it?” I pause for effect. “I may be trailer trash, but God knows what that makes you. Warning me to stay out of your way? Well, right back at you, Georgie. Step out of the ring buddy, you’ve no idea who you’re dealing with.” I pull my arm from his grasp as he squeezes it so aggressively I know I’ll have a bruise. I tug it so hard I nearly fall over when he lets me go.
The idiot starts to laugh, and his imbecile friends pat him on the back as they all saunter away. Really? Intimidating people and they’re patting him.
I shake my head at them. The young gardener, Phillipe, is standing bug-eyed. “Nice, huh?” I say.
“Non, not nice at all. Are you okay? I would have done something if he’d have got any worse, but I feel you did good.” He smiles at me, waving the rake in his hands for good measure. “Come, I’ll get your car keys and a map to the walled garden in the village. I’ll call them and let them know you’re coming over.”
I smile up at him, but my insides are quaking a bit. I need some time out. Something tells me this is just the start, and I’m going to need a Teflon suit so nothing sticks this weekend. “Sounds great!” I say more confidently than I actually feel.
I spend the rest of the afternoon in a haze of stonework, plants, brick dust, ironwork, and trees. It soothes my soul and, when I finally check the time, I’m amazed to see it's 6 p.m. already and I really need to leave. The party is due to start at seven.
Looking at myself in the car mirrors, I shake my head and roll my eyes. Good job I intended my hair to be a bird's nest of twigs and leaves, I can literally just add the powder.
I’m congratulating myself on my time saver when I pull into the yard to find a welcoming committee, with Kellen at the vanguard looking well-wild, and very annoyed.
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