Pictures of Lily

usually have a nappy bag the size of Tasmania to contend with. Ah, here it is.’
    She produces a pale pink tube and a compact mirror. Lucy surreptitiously applies some and then hands it over to me.
    ‘Thanks.’ I do the same before passing it back to Molly for her turn. We’re used to this routine.
    ‘Have you had a drink yet?’ Molly asks Lucy.
    ‘No. I’m dying of thirst.’
    ‘What do you want? Wine? Champagne? Tequila slammer?’ Molly suggests hopefully.
    ‘Ooh no, I’ll have one of those.’ Lucy points towards a tray of ruby-coloured drinks being carried past by a dashing young waiter. I reach over and swipe one for her just in the nick of time.
    ‘Sorry,’ the waiter apologises, looking back over his shoulder and spying me handing the drink to the bride. He immediately comes our way.
    ‘What are they?’ I ask, as he offers the tray to Molly and me.
    ‘Singapore Slings,’ he and Lucy say at the same time. ‘Seriously, you should swap from wine. These are gorgeous,’ she urges Molly and me.
    ‘I’ll take one for later,’ I tell the waiter.
    ‘Not for me,’ Molly says. ‘Wine is fine! Wine is fine!’
    She says it so loudly that Lucy and I pull faces at each other. ‘Is she pissed?’ I mouth, and Lucy nods and grins.
    ‘I saw that,’ Molly growls. ‘I am not pissed! I’m just a bit . . . off my face.’
    We all laugh.
    ‘How are you doing?’ Richard asks me half an hour later when we go to take our seats for lunch.
    ‘Good,’ I reply, not meeting his eyes.
    ‘Still feeling faint?’
    ‘No, I’m okay now.’
    ‘What’s that?’ He nods at my drink.
    ‘Singapore Sling. Lucy’s favourite.’
    ‘Nice?’
    ‘Really nice. Have a sip and see what you think. Are you having fun?’
    ‘Yeah. Nathan was just saying we should plan a surfing trip for when he gets back from his honeymoon. Go up to Byron when the swell comes in.’
    ‘That’d be cool,’ I say.
    ‘Do you want to come?’
    ‘No, you know what I’m like.’
    ‘Lucy will be there.’
    ‘Yeah, well, Lucy can surf, unlike me.’
    ‘You’ve never even tried!’ he exclaims. ‘Nathan taught Lucy, why don’t you let me teach you?’
    ‘No, thanks. When are you thinking of going?’
    ‘Last weekend in April, if that’s okay with you.’
    ‘You know that’s Anzac Day Bank Holiday, right?’
    ‘That’s the plan. Get an extra day in – maybe go camping.’
    ‘That’s when my dad and everyone arrives.’
    ‘Oh, shit. No worries. I’ll see if we can do it some other time.’
    ‘Actually, do you know what? It would be nice to spend some time with my sisters and have a girls’ weekend. You’ll see them the rest of the time they’re here.’
    ‘Are you sure?’ Richard asks.
    ‘Definitely.’
    I can’t believe Kay has just turned fifteen. Olivia is eleven now and Isabel, my youngest sister, is nine. It’s been two years since I’ve seen them. When Ben moved to England, it effectively crippled my own desire to ever want to return. My dad has been pretty good about bringing the family over here to visit me. I still feel like I’m missing out on so much though. But after all the fuss I made about leaving the UK, I do think of Australia as my home now.
    Sam makes everyone laugh with his best man’s speech and Lucy’s stepdad Terry says some lovely things during his, but Nathan’s words bring tears to everyone’s eyes. It’s astounding that all the guys here don’t hate him because you’d better believe the girls are turning to their boyfriends right now and whining, ‘You never say stuff like that to me.’
    ‘I do so!’ Richard exclaims. ‘I promise I’ll come up with something good for the big day.’ He puts his hand in mine and gives it a squeeze. A shiver goes through me. Holy hell.
    ‘Do you want a summer wedding?’
    ‘Erm, I don’t know,’ I reply nervously. ‘I haven’t had time to think about it.’
    ‘A summer wedding would be nice,’ he decides. ‘Maybe early January so we can take longer for our honeymoon after the Christmas break.’
    ‘January 2012?’ I ask distractedly as I tuck into my pavlova. Lucy may not have opted for meringue as a wedding dress, but I’m glad she didn’t skimp on it for dessert.
    ‘No, 2011,’ Richard replies. ‘Next year.’
    ‘Next year?’ I manage to choke out. ‘What, January as in only nine months or so away?’
    ‘Why not?’
    I shake my head furiously. ‘Too soon. I need time to organise everything.’
    ‘You’re the most