Page 45 of The Wedding Forecast

‘What exactly?’ Bobbi asks.

‘It’s a private thing.’ This is the wrong thing to say.

‘You can tell us,’ Mum says. ‘Jean’s a doctor.’

‘I’d rather not,’ I say, walking towards Mac’s bedroom. Hayley needs her sleep, I’m not going to wake her if I can help it. Which leaves me with Mac as the only option.

I knock on his door. For some reason, Mum, Bobbi and Jean have all followed me down the hall and are hovering behind me. Dad has already plonked himself on the reclining armchair. He’ll be asleep in two minutes.

‘Come in,’ Mac says.

I open the door. He’s sitting in bed, reading my book. He smiles at me.

‘Oh, hello, I knew you’d change your mind and—’

‘No, no, my mum is here,’ I say, talking over him as loudly as possible and holding up my hands because I am terrified of what he is about to say in front of the mums.

‘There was a gas leak at their house and they need to stay here.’

‘Oh shit,’ he says.

I notice he is about three chapters into my book already.

‘So, um, I was wondering if you would consider sleeping in one of the bunk beds tonight and giving Bobbi and Jean your bed?’ I say. ‘I wouldn’t ask except Jean has a bad hip and Bobbi has a shoulder thing—’

‘Anna, we don’t need to give him our full medical records,’ Bobbi says, as if they hadn’t moments before been prying into Bianca’s.

‘I’m just giving him the full picture, because I know he’s very against sleeping in a bunk bed,’ I say.

He makes a face at me.

‘I’m happy to sleep in a bunk bed,’ he says. ‘Or on the couch, if your mum would prefer a bed.’ His voice is back to the formal tone I noticed he used around the mums before.

‘No, I better take the couch, Anna’s father is sleeping out there too, and he snores, and I have ear plugs,’ Mum says.

‘The couch looks comfier anyway,’ I say. ‘The mattress on the bunks is very thin.’

‘Let me just pack up my stuff,’ Mac says.

‘Thank you,’ Bobbi and Jean chorus. He nods to them.

Bobbi, Mum, Jean and I start setting up the couch for Mum. As predicted, Dad is already dozing off in the recliner.

Mac walks past with his bags and his suit, and dumps his things in my room.

‘All good,’ he says.

‘Thank you, we do very much appreciate it,’ Jean says.

‘Not a problem,’ Mac says.

‘Okay, I’m going to bed,’ I say to the mums.

I shut the door to the bedroom and find Mac lying in the bottom bunk, still reading my book.

‘I’m in the bottom,’ I say.

‘I am worried about the top bunk holding my weight,’ he says. ‘Imagine if it collapsed on you in the night.’