a pink and white tent was visible. The overall effect was incredibly welcoming…
‘Look at those windows flung open,’ said Zack. ‘Bet you any money my mother’s been burning cakes again.’
He brought the car to a halt. Elmo, on Ellie’s lap, gave a bark of recognition and began scrabbling his paws against the passenger window. The next moment the bright green front door opened and a horde of people and dogs began spilling out.
Was this how it felt to be Beyoncé?
‘Welcome to my family.’ Zack’s tone was dry. ‘Well? Do you think we can do this?’
If Jamie were watching her now, he’d be laughing his head off at the predicament she’d got herself into. The only way, really, was to go for it, plunge in full tilt, and act her socks off.
Ellie grinned at him. ‘Zacky, don’t panic, it’ll be fine.’
‘Darling, how lovely, it’s been too long!’ Teresa McLaren gave her son an enthusiastic hug then turned to Ellie. ‘And you must be Ellie. It’s even lovelier to meet you!’
Zack said, ‘Mum, call her Piglet. Everyone does.’
‘No, they don’t.’ Ellie shook her head at Teresa. ‘Ignore him, he just made that up.’
‘He’s a shocker. But everybody does call me Tizz, so you must too.’ Tizz was beaming; in her midsixties, she had flyaway brown hair escaping from a hastily assembled bun, Zack’s dark eyes, and a streak of flour across her forehead. She was wearing a stripy blue and white shirt over crumpled jeans and had a rangy, boyish figure. ‘We’ve been so looking forward to this. Now, let’s introduce you to everyone…’
‘Mum, why are all the windows open?’ said Zack.
‘You know exactly why, darling. Too much going on, too much chatter, and I forgot to set the timer on the oven.’ Tizz was un-repentant. ‘I burned the bloody shortbread.’
***
By eight o’clock Ellie felt as if she’d known Zack’s family for years. Well, apart from not having quite got all the names and faces of the younger contingent matched together. The interior of the house was spacious and comfortable, decorated in an eclectic mix of Gothic, suburban, and shabby chic. Zack’s father Ken, returning from a trip to the shops for unburnt shortbread and extra supplies of Bombay Sapphire gin, was tall and suntanned with a loud booming laugh, twinkling faded gray eyes, and a big bumpy nose that Zack hadn’t inherited.
Zack’s sisters were equally welcoming, each of them possessing a recognizable mix of their parents’ genes and a raucous sense of humor. Claire was the blondest, Paula the one with the wickedest, loudest laugh. And Steph, due to be married less than forty-eight hours from now, was the most laid-back future bride you could imagine, especially seeing as her twin daughters Joss and Lily were still dead set on wearing trainers with their bridesmaid dresses.
OK, Joss and Lily, identical twins, tick.
Gareth, Steph’s about-to-be husband, tick.
Paula’s children were Tom and Zaylie, dark straight hair, dark curly hair, tick, tick.
Claire and her husband Paul—no, Phil—had two girls and one boy, Suki and Belle and… hang on a sec, Lewis, that was it. Tick, tick, tick.
As for the dogs, they were a boisterous mix of Labradors, mongrels, and terriers, and Ellie wasn’t even going to attempt to work out which of them belonged to which branch of the family. It was enough for now that Elmo was having the time of his life.
So far they’d all been down to the beach to give the dogs a run before sundown, before calling in at the best takeaway in Perranporth. Then, back at the house, they’d sat outside on the lit-up terrace eating fish and chips, drinking gin, and discussing the plans for the wedding.
After a while, even better, the conversation turned to Zack when he was young.
‘He made me jump over a wall,’ Claire relayed with relish, ‘and there were ten million stinging nettles on the other side.’
Zack narrowed his eyes. ‘Only to pay you back for tipping live crabs into my wellington boots.’
‘But you deserved it,’ Paula chimed in. ‘You’d hidden whitebait in her schoolbag.’
‘Oh God, I’d forgotten about the whitebait.’ Claire was outraged. ‘They stank!’
The children were shrieking with laughter. Joss, sitting at Ellie’s feet, squealed, ‘I’m going to do the crab thing tomorrow to everyone in my class!’
‘You mustn’t.’ Zack pointed a chip at her. ‘Because it’s not funny and it’s not clever.’
Belle shook her head. ‘It is funny, I think. And quite clever.’
‘At the time it was hilarious.’ Zack’s expression was solemn. ‘The next day when I put on my