He looked at Libby and raised an eyebrow.
Butterflies took off in her tummy. ‘It might be fun?’
He raised his other eyebrow. ‘Fun?’ he said, as if the suggestion were last on his list of enjoyable things to do.
She nodded. ‘How about we get you a couple of costumes and you can pick one of them?’
Estelle’s face lit up and Henry frowned at her.
‘No costumes for women.’
His sister’s face fell. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ she muttered.
‘Nothing that reveals more than five per cent of my body,’ he continued, ‘and nothing that our parents would approve of.’
Estelle threw her hands in the air. ‘I might as well cut two holes in a sheet and chuck it over your head so you can go as a ghost.’
‘I’m happy with that suggestion.’ He glanced at Libby. ‘And Libby decides what I’m going to wear.’
‘Ugh,’ Estelle grunted. ‘We’ll have to see if they have any “fun police” outfits.’
‘You okay to choose for me?’ he asked Libby.
She tried to hide her excitement. She knew exactly what she was going to get.
An hour later,Libby and Estelle had loaded four garment bags into the back of Estelle’s Land Rover, then returned to the centre of Bath. The pale stone buildings reflected the Saturday morning heat and radiated even more.
Estelle pushed her way through the crowds like a battering ram. ‘Bloody tourists, clogging the place up.’
‘I’m a tourist.’
‘You’re different.’
‘How?’
‘You’re with me.’ Estelle stopped and twisted her ponytail into a bun. ‘It’s so fucking hot. I want to go home and jump in the river.’
‘The one near the Manor?’
‘Yeah. The Foxbrooke. It joins the Avon near Freshford.’
Libby’s phone pinged with a message and she pulled it from her bag.
‘Is it Henry?’ Estelle asked. ‘Has he finished buying a portcullis for your bedroom door?’
Libby’s stomach turned as she read the message.
Lucas: How’s it going with the nobs?
She shook her head. ‘Just a friend. Should I ring Henry? Do you need to get back?’
Her phone pinged again.
Lucas: Ring me, babe x
Babe?
‘You alright?’ Estelle asked. ‘You look how I feel ninety-nine per cent of the time.’
