LITMIR.BIZ

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my job, eh? Out of touch.’

      Julian opens the bottle and makes no comment.

      Antoine says. ‘I’d be on safer ground painting black towers.’

      ‘Right,’ says Julian. ‘All got a drop?’

      ‘Timothy hasn’t,’ says Antoine.

      ‘I don’t drink,’ protests Timothy.

      ‘Got to have a drop to toast our Naomi,’ insists Clive.

      Antoine fills a quarter of a glass with wine and hands it to Timothy.

      ‘Right. The toast. To my dear sister on her eighteenth birthday. How pretty you are, Naomi. Hasn’t she grown pretty, Clive?’

      ‘Every inch a Juliet.’

      ‘To our lovely sister Naomi. Happy birthday,’ say the brothers in unison.

      ‘To Naomi,’ they all cry, raising their glasses.

      Timothy takes a sip and almost chokes, but it doesn’t taste too bad, it’s reasonably sweet and warm, he can’t think what all the fuss is about.

      Clive leads them into singing ‘Happy Birthday to You’.

      William moves his lips but he is so embarrassed that no sounds emerge, Antoine doesn’t know the words, Penny sings too loudly to drown the silence, Julian growls like a stag in rut, Isobel performs as if she’s in an opera but goes too fast and gets ahead of everybody else, Teresa smiles blankly, coolly, beakily, and Timothy succumbs to his choking fit and turns purple. It cannot by any stretch of the imagination be described as a musical triumph, and, after they have all sat down, there is another moment of silence.

      Naomi stands.

      ‘I think I should make a speech,’ she says.

      There are cheers and cries of ‘Hurrah’. William hunches himself against further embarrassment and dreams of sailing sweetly into St Peter Port harbour on the evening breeze.

      ‘Thank you all for coming,’ says his daughter. ‘Thanks for the lovely chicken, Mum, it was really great, and for the wine, Dad, very nice. It’s really great to have my best friend Isobel here, and I’m thrilled that my dear brothers could make it, and it’s really great to meet their partners. But above all it’s great to have my fiancé here tonight. I’m really looking forward to that intriguingly shaped present. I’m sure he’s got me something really great.’

      There is warm applause.

      ‘And now a great English delicacy – trifle,’ Penny tells Antoine.

      ‘I’m enchanted,’ says Antoine.

      Three people have seconds, and all the while Timothy’s tension grows.

      As at last they leave the dining room, Timothy finds himself walking just in front of Julian and Teresa, who have not been able to discuss matters with each other during the meal.

      ‘All right?’ whispers Julian.

      ‘Just about,’ comes Teresa’s answering whisper, ‘for one who’s been completely ignored because they’re all fawning over the Frog poofter to show they aren’t prejudiced, and if that girl had said “really great” once more I’d have thrown up.’

      Timothy is surprised by this, but he supposes that it’s impossible to please everyone.

      He has decided that he hates Julian, so he is slightly discomfited when Julian whispers, ‘“That girl”, as you call her, is my lovely sister. What did I ever see in you?’

      But now they are in the lounge and he can hear no more.

      Even now it isn’t time for the presents. There’s coffee first.

      ‘Now. The presents,’ says Naomi at last. ‘I can’t wait another moment. Julian?’

      Nobody knows quite why it has always been Julian who hands out the parcels, but the family sees no reason to change its traditions now.

      ‘Er…just before Julian plays his part in what is obviously some cosy family ritual that I know nothing about,’ says Teresa, ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache. I’m off to bed if nobody minds.’

      Nobody minds, nobody would miss Teresa if she jumped off a cliff, and that now includes Julian. But there is a little awkward feeling in the room, which affects everyone except Timothy.

      When Julian had told his parents that he was bringing Teresa, there had been a brief discussion between Penny and William. They had both agreed that Julian and Teresa should not sleep together under their roof. Penny had thought that William should tell them. William had hoped that Penny would.

      ‘You’ve so much more rapport,’ he had said.

      ‘And why is that?’ she had retorted. ‘Because you don’t try, and because you sail for a month every August and miss most of our holidays.’

      This had shocked William, who had felt that after eleven years of silence on the matter the sore had healed. He had immediately agreed to tackle the issue.

      He had felt awkward talking on the phone to Julian about this. He always felt rather awkward talking on the phone, he always felt rather awkward talking to Julian, and he always felt very awkward talking about anything relating to sex.

      ‘Julian, old chap, how are you? Look, it’s like this. Um…bit of a problem over the…um…the sleeping arrangements. You’ll probably think we’re desperately old-fashioned, and probably we are, but there it is, and I am an elder in the church and your mother does teach at the Sunday School and we…what you do in your lives is up to you, you’re adults, but…um…I’m afraid we can’t condone sex before…um…before…um…marriage under our roof. I mean, sex under our roof, not marriage. I’m sorry, old thing, but that’s all there is to it. If Teresa comes, you must share a bed with Clive like old times…nice, eh, memories of camping, memories of Guernsey, happy times?…you are still there, are you?…Oh, good…and Teresa will just have to muck in with Clive’s girlfriend and hope they get on. Or, I mean, one lot could go to a B & B, we have recommendations.’ He had realised that this sounded a bit dry, so had added, ‘But we hope you’ll stay. Be nice to have all the family under one roof.’

      He had been so exhausted, after the emotional challenge of the longest speech he had made in his life outside weddings, classrooms and yachts, that he had entirely forgotten that the job was only half done and that he hadn’t rung Clive.

      Julian and Teresa had agreed, Teresa very reluctantly, and then Clive had turned up with Antoine. Clearly Teresa couldn’t sleep with Antoine. That would solve nothing.

      Penny had given William a bit of an ear-bashing for not phoning Clive to discuss the arrangements. ‘Never face more awkward moments than you have to, do you?’

      ‘I just assumed Clive would fall in with the plans. How was I to know his partner was a…’ He had pulled back from using a derogatory term.

      There had been talk of trying the B & Bs, but time had been short and in the end Naomi’s parents had agreed that the two couples could sleep together.

      ‘But we agree under duress,’ William had said. ‘And…er…’ He had looked even more embarrassed than usual. ‘I don’t think I need to say more, but…’

      ‘But you will,’ Julian had interrupted.

      ‘Yes. Yes, I will. I think and hope that I can trust all four of you to respect our family home and not…um…try any…um…funny business.’

      Teresa had looked furious, but had said nothing. Antoine had looked amused, but had said nothing.

      Clive had said, ‘Please don’t stay awake all night listening, Dad, especially to us, wondering what we get up to, as if you didn’t know. After all, even Catullus did it.’

      ‘I find that attitude unhelpful, frankly, Clive.

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