I was still way too hungover to argue. ‘Well, I can promise that there will be no Super Noodles at your hen do.’
She nodded and launched into a monologue about her homemade confetti. Isla was glowing with pre-wedding excitement. The universe had been good to her. I looked down at my bag, where I could see Daniel’s note peeking out of the inside pocket, eleven digits beneath his name. My own little weird universe moment.
‘Penny, are you even listening?’
I shrugged off the thought, tuning back in and offering my opinion on oatmeal versus shell napkin holders, pushing it to the back of my mind. I had no idea what I was going to do about that phone number.
20
I squinted at the track in front of me, my brother barely a speck in the distance.
I cupped my hands and yelled. ‘Joe, come on. This is a supposed to be a bonding activity.’
The speck got bigger and bigger as he jogged back towards me.
‘Pen, how can we bond when you’re miles behind?’
I flipped him the finger. ‘We don’t all have freakishly long legs.’
He wasn’t even that much taller than me; five foot eleven to my five foot six. We’d both inherited Mum’s tall genes – Dad was five foot eight at a push, and Mum had always been slightly taller, the one to reach the top shelf at the supermarket. I had to admit, I’d been a bit concerned about Dad’s height hindering him on Level (once I’d got past the betrayal of him downloading Link too), but he’d texted me a few days ago to let me know that of his six matches, three had messaged him first. Research showed that women messaging first was an anomaly; it was hard thinking of other people seeing your dad as a catch.
‘Fine, I will take the bait and jog at your pace. Oh, look’ – he pointed at the ground – ‘a snail just overtook us.’
I rolled my eyes. Despite my aversion to outdoor yoga and twisting my body into unreasonable positions, I did enjoy running. I was by no means good at it, but we’d started running together in March with the goal of feeling confident enough to join parkrun. It came a lot more naturally to Joe than it did to me.
‘Do you feel the stress falling off you in waves?’ I kept my focus straight ahead on the dirt track in front of me but directed the question at him.
‘A little bit.’ He pulled a fruit gum out of his pocket and threw it into his mouth. He’d been watching way too many running videos; I didn’t think you needed sugar boosts when you were barely running 5K. ‘Between work and the wedding, I could do with my stress being cut in half and then some.’
One of the main reasons we’d started this in the first place had been to try and combat some of the stress Joe built up after a string of shifts at the hospital. It was hard for the rest of us to comprehend the kind of things he saw on a daily basis, and whilst Isla helped with her lunch boxes, I had stepped up to bat and offered to be his running partner. Well, mostly to support him, but also because the lift breaking in our office building earlier this year had almost sent me into cardiac arrest.
‘I hear Dad is having major luck with the ladies,’ Joe said as he steered us around the curve in the path. Our usual route was through Greenwich Park, heading up towards the old naval college and following the park’s trails.
‘Indeed. He asked me for a glossary of acronyms that people use in texting nowadays. Try explaining DILF to your own father.’
Joe snorted. ‘I’d take a glossary any day. I’m meeting him for a pint to “go over dating etiquette”.’
I slipped the straw that was built into my running vest into my mouth to stop from laughing. The vest was a ridiculous but practical gift that Rory had bought for me when I’d started running on a regular basis.
‘It’s probably because he knows you’ve got tons of free time, what with being a doctor and having a short-notice wedding to plan.’
He snorted. ‘Absolutely. I was just getting bored, looking for something else to throw into the mix. Why not remind my dad to slip a condom into his wallet.’
I was horrified. ‘He did not ask you that.’
‘No, he did not. But I like to catastrophize sometimes.’
‘Do you think that’s genetic?’
‘Quite possibly.’
I tried to pace my breathing. It was hard when your running buddy wanted to chat. ‘Well, make sure you tell him that they expire. We don’t want any accidental half-siblings.’
Joe pulled a face. ‘I think “Mary, 59” is probably past childbearing. But I’ll tell him just in case. One little sister was quite enough.’
I squirted my water pack at him. ‘Life got ten times more interesting when I was born, and you know it.’
I tried to imagine Joe as an only child and immediately failed. He’d lived for playing pranks on me, hiding in the wardrobe for over an hour once just so that he could successfully execute the jump scare. I’d been 6 and had needed a change of clothes afterwards.
We ran in silence for a few minutes, my breathing ten times louder than his. I checked my Fitbit: twenty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds. It was at this point that I always started to fantasise about the bacon butty at the end – like a mirage, I could almost taste it.
‘So, what’s left on the wedding checklist?’
Joe groaned. ‘Remind me never to let someone convince me to plan a wedding in two months again.’
‘Are you planning on getting married again?’
‘Fuck, no.’ He checked his own watch. ‘This first one has shaved about ten years from my life expectancy. It’s becoming glaringly obvious that Isla’s side of the family are willing to do absolutely zero to help.’
I winced. It had been a topic we’d all darted around, without actually saying it. Her sisters weren’t even coming to the sten do.
‘They’ll be first in line for the free bar, but God forbid they actually help us source a hundred chairs for the ceremony.’
I let him rant, sensing he needed it. By the time the big day came, all of these kinks would be ironed out – and if they weren’t, by then it wouldn’t matter. Isla was far from a bridezilla; she just wanted to be married to Joe. Anything outside of that was a formality.
‘Does it bother Isla? Her family?’
Joe shrugged, bracing his hands on his knees as we came to the end of our route. ‘She says not, but I’m not sure I believe her. It’s a bloody good job that Mum basically adopted her the minute I brought her home.’
