Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(78)

The food is delicious, and I eat my way happily through two bowls of the meaty chilli and rice while we sit talking with other guests. Finally, I look up and find Lachlan watching me.

“What?” I say, regrettably through a mouthful of food.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to have a conversation with you when I might get hit with low-flying chilli.”

I swallow. “No fear of that. I’m not wasting even a tiny bit of this.”

He looks pleased. “Is it okay?”

“It’s absolutely lovely.” I open my mouth. “Look, Mum, it’s empty now. Can I talk?”

He rolls his eyes. “Food is such a temporary solution to a problem that only a ball gag could solve.”

Ryan, who’s sitting nearby, laughs. “You two are so funny. Erica said you were.”

I hesitate wondering what to say to that, but a drum roll saves me, and we all turn and focus on the corner of the room. DABBA have obviously decided that they’d rather play music than sit with the group and have set up on the small dais.

“Evening, folks,” Darren says into the microphone. Everyone mumbles a version of hello, and he continues, undaunted. “We decided that we’d give you a little treat tonight.”

“Is it that they’ve given up on music altogether?” Lachlan says, and I snort and nudge him.

Darren continues speaking. “We’re going to be doing some songs Acapulco.”

I blink. “He’s going to Mexico?”

Lachlan bites his lips, his eyes brimming with laughter. “I think he means acapella.”

“Oh well, that sounds a bit more boring, to be honest.”

He shrugs. “Dare I hope that the songs might not be ABBA?”

“No, you dare not.”

Darren smiles and points at Erica and Ryan. “This is for the happy couple. It’s ‘Does Your Mother Know?’”

“I don’t think there’s much Frances doesn’t know,” I say, darting a glance at her. “She’s like the Sphinx.”

“Ancient and covered in sand?” Lachlan grins lazily at me. “I don’t think she knows everything anyway.”

I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

He ignores my question and winces as Brian sings the song's opening line. “God, I thought it couldn’t get any worse, but Acapulco is obviously the way to prove me wrong.”

I put my head down to hide my laughter. “Shut up,” I hiss. The band start to harmonise or whatever you’d call that dreadful noise as Erica and Ryan get up and sway together, smiles on their faces. After a minute of torture, I frown. “I’ve always been drunk by the time this song plays, so I’ve never listened to the lyrics. It’s a bit creepy, isn’t it?”

Lachlan licks his lips. “The song hasn’t aged well. I’ll give you that.”

I shoot him a sly look. “Well, if we’re talking about mothers not knowing things, we should probably mention the long talks you’ve been having with my mum.”

He winces. “Ah, yes. Sorry.”

“Why on earth have you become the best of phone buddies?”

“Well, I only rang the first time to see if she knew where you were and then—” He pauses. He’s paying undue attention to scraping his fork through his chilli and avoiding my eyes.

“And?” I prompt.

He looks up, his eyes rueful. “Then she started talking about you, and I wanted to keep chatting.” His expression turns wicked. “I’ve learnt so much about you, Joe. All your teenage misdemeanours.”

“Oh god.”

He winks. “What a wild boy you were.”

“And yet I still never reached your dizzy heights of expulsion.”

The band have moved on to butchering “Eagle”, and Erica and Ryan have disappeared. I sway to the tune. “Is it wrong that I’m growing to almost like DABBA?”

“I think it might be some musical version of Stockholm Syndrome.”

Erica comes back into the room, holding some boxes. “Look what we’ve found,” she exclaims. “Board games.”

“Oh no, I think I know where this is going,” I whisper. “Is it too late to flee?”

Lachlan rubs his hands together. “Excellent,” he exclaims.

“You actually like board games?”

“Of course. Who doesn’t?”

“Erm, me. I’d rather Sellotape my testicles together.”

He laughs. “Please don’t damage my second favourite thing in the world.”

I pout. “You know I hate coming second. So what is the first?”

He arches his eyebrow. “I think you know.”

We stare at each other until Erica calls out, “We’re going to play Trivial Pursuit, so get into teams.”

She’s like one of those appalling people who run holiday clubs for kids, which, let’s face it, are just invented to give parents some peace. Those clubs got more than they bargained for with my family when my mum and dad forgot about us and went shopping. There are only so many times you can play snakes and ladders without wanting to do damage to something, and the holiday rep’s tantrum had been far more entertaining than the game.

I turn to Lachlan. “We can do something else and—”