Pictures of Lily

be fun while it lasts, but I’d like to stay where I am for longer than my nine-month maternity cover.
    ‘Lily!’ I turn to see Molly at the bar. Molly is tall and slim with a mop of red hair. ‘Get your arse over here!’ She claps her hand over her mouth and casts a horrified look at Mikey who’s in Sam’s arms to my left. ‘Mummy didn’t mean to say, “arse”, darling,’ she coos. ‘Don’t you say “arse”, my little love, it’s a bad word.’
    ‘Now you’ve said it three times, he’ll have it imprinted on his brain,’ Sam points out. ‘Pissed as a newt and it’s only one o’clock,’ he says as an aside to me, tutting affectionately.
    Nathan and Lucy got married on the beach in Manly, a short walk from their home. We all went for a drink at a beachside bar by the ferry before hopping on board to come to Circular Quay for the reception. I suspect Molly had a few drinks with Lucy before she tied the knot. Although saying that, Lucy doesn’t look tipsy. She looks radiant.
    ‘Lily!’ Molly shouts again. ‘Are you coming or what?’ I squeeze Richard’s hand and he grins down at me as I leave him to join Molly at the bar. ‘Tequila slammers?’ she asks hopefully.
    ‘Molly,’ I laugh. ‘It’s a wedding.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘We can’t do shots at a wedding.’
    ‘Of course we can! Lucy would expect nothing less from us.’
    ‘But we haven’t even had lunch yet,’ I protest.
    ‘I knew you’d let me down.’ She shakes her finger at me. ‘Can we get a couple of white wines, please?’ she asks the barman. ‘Wine okay?’ she checks with me.
    ‘Wine is fine.’
    ‘Wine is fine! Wine is fine! Wine is fine!’ she sings, wrapping her arms around me. ‘Don’t they look great together?’
    We look over at Nathan and Lucy. The look in his eyes as he gazes down at her . . . I’ve never seen a love like theirs. That’s a terrible thing to say, isn’t it? Especially when I’m getting . . . I’m getting married! Stop, stop, stop, don’t think about it now. But it’s true about Nathan and Lucy. They’re made for each other.
    The funny thing with Richard is that there was never any build-up to us getting together. I was out at a bar with a couple of colleagues from a temping job I had at an insurance firm and Richard came along and offered to buy me a drink. I thought, why not? He seemed nice, we got chatting, and the evening culminated in a drunken snog on the steps outside. He took my number, I hardly even expected him to call, but when he did the very next day I thought, at least this guy isn’t someone who plays games. What the hell, of course I’ll go out with him.
    We went to see a movie a few days later and our relationship progressed from there. But there were never any, ‘please let him fancy me’ moments. We just kind of fell into step with each other.
    I do love him. There’s never any doubt in my mind about that. And I adore his friends and our lifestyle. Lucy and Molly are probably my closest girlfriends here. They’ve never made me feel left out, even though they’ve known each other since they were kids.
    ‘Cheers!’ Molly brings me back to the present. ‘Oh, it’s nice to have a drink,’ she says. ‘I swear I was more nervous about this wedding than the bloody bride.’
    ‘What were you nervous about?’
    ‘The weather, my shoes, my hair, whether Mikey would have his nap on time . . .’
    We glance over at the little boy. Sam is holding his hands as he climbs along the back of a white leather sofa. ‘He seems pretty happy.’
    ‘I hope no one minds him having his shoes on that. Sam! Can you get him down?’ Molly calls.
    ‘He’s fine,’ Sam calls back.
    ‘I hate relinquishing control,’ she admits to me. ‘But Sam promised he’d take the reins today so I could be there for Lucy. And have a few drinks. Cheers,’ she says again.
    ‘What are you two talking about?’ Lucy appears at our side. About my height, with long brown hair and hazel eyes, she’s slim, curvy and pretty.
    ‘Do you need anything?’ Molly asks her. ‘Top-up of lip-gloss? Want me to come to the loo with you and hold up your dress?’
    ‘No, thanks.’ Lucy laughs. ‘Maybe if I was wearing a meringue. I could do with some lip-gloss, though.’ She holds out her hand while Molly rummages around in her silver beaded clutch bag.
    ‘Where the bleedin’ heck is it?’ Molly mutters. ‘Honestly, you’d think I’d be able to find lip-gloss in a bag this small when I