‘I like your hair!’ Isaac tells Lucy. He turns to Linh. ‘And you’re a very cool grandma. My grandma smells of ham. I wish my family looked like yours. You all look different, that’s kinda cool,’ he announces to the room, his hand inside a box of Cheerios, helping himself.
Linh watches him curiously. He still seems to be jogging to a song in his own head. It’s possibly reggae, maybe disco. I really wish we could hear it.
‘Isaac, I’ll be going out tonight but Linh will be here. Is that all right? I cleared it with your mum already.’
‘It’s coolio.’ He puts an arm around Linh. Lucy laughs to look at him, like she may want an Isaac. ‘Me and the girls are just going to chill. See yas.’
He runs out again and I notice Linh’s curious expression again. ‘I can get one of the sisters to help out?’
‘I can manage. When all else fails, I can put them in front of the television until they fall asleep.’ She puts a hand to my shoulder. ‘Go. I also need to binge-watch the next season ofScandaland I can’t do that with you in the house.’
Lucy laughs. She’s bonded with Linh over the past few days. Both of them share that passion for pushing the envelope, for not doing what people expect.
‘Well, you have our numbers if there’s a problem. I am literally twenty minutes down the road.’
She nods obediently.
‘Is there anything you want before we head out?’ I ask.
‘Yes. Your sister is right, at least put an earring on,’ she answers cheekily.
* * *
Astrid and Farah come as a double act. All us Callaghan girls went to the same school – Astrid was in my year, Farah in Lucy’s, and we became connected through sisterhood, friendship but also when Astrid and Farah fell in love and got married. Lucy and I have seen that relationship from the ground up, from two awkward teens learning to traverse through new feelings, awakened sexuality, to university, jobs, travel and marriage. They live in Amsterdam. Yes, the very place where Tom and I reunited after a time apart. Astrid has never admitted it to me but I think she invited us both there on purpose to orchestrate some meet-cute where we’d fall in love again.And would you look at that? We only have the one spare bedroom; you and Tom will have to share.
The last time I saw them both was at their wedding while I was on my post-Tom travels. Lucy came along. We don’t speak of that trip in too much detail though, because Lucy and I left their reception, got caned in a hash bar on some very potent brownies and we lost time. I mean, that’s one way of putting it. We ended up in an extreme S&M bar where I threw up after watching something unmentionable on a stage that still sends shivers down my spine and Lucy got into a fight with a drag queen after she accidentally set fire to her weave. I also lost a shoe. That sort of thing.
‘That was an excellent night,’ Lucy says now, bringing that story back to the dinner table.
‘It was not. I still haven’t been able to work out if we’re legally allowed back in Holland,’ I remind her. We were cautioned by some Dutch policemen on mountain bikes wearing incredibly short shorts.
‘By excellent, I mean memorable. Come on, I bring that story out all the time.’
‘I imagine you have a plethora of them, dear sister.’
‘Yes, but that one is the best. Did I throw your shoe in the canal?’ she asks me.
‘Fuck, you did. I can’t even remember why.’
‘That is the sort of high we all need to be at some point in our lives.’
I can never work out what Lucy’s intention was on that trip. I was there to see my best friends get married but my sister was on some mission to help me forget, to throw me into some heightened state of being where I wouldn’t be wandering around the streets of Amsterdam a sad crying widow.I can’t bear to see you that sad, Grace, so I am going to dry-hump this Dutch road bollard until you laugh and can’t be sad any more.
Astrid and Farah sit opposite us in this Asian fusion restaurant in hysterics. That night, while they were busy glowing as newlyweds, they hadn’t realised the bridesmaids had snuck out, off to find legal highs and get reprimanded by the Dutch. They knew nothing until we’d returned to their house, me with one shoe, wearing a wig that wasn’t mine, and slept for twenty-four hours straight on one of their sofas.
‘I thought you had slipped into a coma at one point. We were holding mirrors to your mouths. We kept rolling Lucy into the recovery position,’ Farah says. Her eyes glow green, warm like wasabi.
‘Yeah, and we didn’t have enough blankets so had to cover you both with bath towels.’
Lucy and I laugh. It was a crazy few days. If I wanted distraction I got it.
‘And when you finally did wake up…’ Astrid adds.
We all smile. It was because I had to take a call. It was from a lawyers’ office in Saigon, someone who wanted to discuss some paperwork Linh had filed to ensure I was a legal guardian to her two granddaughters. It was the most sobering phone call I’d ever taken. I had the driest mouth so Astrid tried to feed me water through a straw. They all stood there while I sat ashen, tears rolling down my face. It was Grace back in her recent default setting. The sobbing became more intense. Lucy thought it was out of physical pain because I was so hungover. And then I told them. Lucy was frantic.You did what now? You’re going to adopt? Girls? They’re sisters? I need to ring people. I stopped her. All I remember was Astrid watching me, my body trembling a little, and she held me.This is an amazing thing, Grace. Does that make us aunties?I nodded. Lucy hugged them, welcoming them into her gang. I will forever be glad I got to share that news with these three people.
This evening we are sitting in a harbourside restaurant, carved out of some old shipping container, the early spring air threatening to steal the winter from us. It’s a newer and funkier Bristol compared to the one where I spent my university years. I used to revel in the access to the Jason Donervan in the early hours but now the city is abuzz with pop-up cuisine, street food and people dangle their legs over the harbourfront supping at organic homebrews. It was a scene Tom and I came back to Bristol for, for evenings like this.
‘I am going to order us some more drinks because I’m not nearly drunk enough,’ Lucy announces, getting up. ‘Farah, come with. There’s a barman who’s slightly fit and I need a wingwoman.’
