‘Hurray, the cavalry is here!’ Melinda cried, ushering Bryony through the front door. ‘Thank goodness you turned up. I need some female support. Lewis called round to see if Sean fancied going running tomorrow and got roped into helping him out. They’ve been attempting to get it alight since half past four. It’s taken several bags of charcoal briquettes, lots of matches and a few of cans of lager, so be warned.’
Melinda led Bryony through the kitchen and outside to the decking that overlooked a long narrow garden. It was a neat garden surrounded by high-panelled fencing painted in a dark green. Freshly trimmed and shaped beds in front of the fence were filled with colourful shrubs and flowers. Sean, dressed in a T-shirt, shorts and an apron bearing the torso of a scantily clad woman in only lace underwear and suspenders, was fanning the barbecue with a newspaper.
‘Hi, Bryony. Just in time,’ he shouted, racing over to plant a kiss on her cheek. He reeked of smoke, charcoal and lighter fluid and had a large, dark smut on the end of his nose. ‘I’m about to slap some steak and chicken on the grill. It’ll be more fun now we have guests.’
‘Hi, Sean. Hi, Lewis,’ she called to the figure hunched over the barbecue, tongs in hand, face scrunched up in concentration. He waved his tongs merrily. ‘Where’s Freddie?’ asked Bryony. ‘I’m surprised he’s not helping you too.’
Melinda explained, ‘He’s staying overnight with Sean’s parents. They took him to Drayton Manor Park today for a treat. I think the treat was really for Sean’s dad. Charles can’t wait to go on the rides with his grandson. He’s a big kid at heart – like Sean,’ Melinda added, hugging her husband from behind.
‘Put me down, woman. I have a serious job to do here.’
‘How’s it going, boss?’ asked Melinda, rolling her eyes at Bryony behind Sean’s back.
‘We’re ready to put the goodies on the grill. Have you prepared the marinated chicken wings?’
‘They’re in the fridge. I prepped all the food and made the salad so I’m done for the evening. It’s up to you to cook for us for a change.’ Melinda poured two generous glasses of wine and passed one to Bryony.
‘This is a man’s job,’ he answered good-naturedly. ‘Come on, Lewis, you can be my trusty assistant. Can’t let women barbecue.’
‘Behave yourself,’ Melinda responded. ‘Or I’ll go on strike and I don’t only mean in the kitchen department.’
Sean’s mouth turned down in mock sadness as he headed off in the direction of the kitchen to collect the food.
After several drinks each and a meal declared a success by all, Sean was in the mood for some silly entertainment.
‘Time to enjoy ourselves,’ he declared and darted towards the far end of the garden carrying a set of cricket stumps and a cricket bat. About 150 metres down the garden he banged a cricket stump into the lawn with his bat, paced out a few steps to the side of it and banged in a second stump.
‘Team game,’ he announced loudly to his bewildered audience. ‘It’ll be Lewis and Bryony versus me and the ball and chain. Simple rules. First person takes a slug of their drink, runs down the garden to the stump, attaches their head to the stump with their fist.’ He demonstrated by balling up his hand into a fist, lifting the thumb end to his forehead, bending and touching the top of the cricket stump with the other end of his fist. ‘He or she must then circle the stump three times, run back to their team member, tag them and then they have to do the same.’
They lined up in pairs. Bryony was against Melinda. She took a large glug of wine and scooted down the garden where she attempted to hold her forehead as close as she could to the stump with her fist and circled it. She completed a second circle but became dizzy and lost count along with her sense of direction. The men cheered then yelled commands to encourage the women. ‘One more turn, Bryony,’ shouted Lewis. ‘Keep going. You’re almost done.’
‘Another two circles, Melinda. Go on, girl. You can do it!’
Bryony lifted her head. The garden swam before her eyes and she stumbled back in the direction of Lewis, who urged her towards him, arms outstretched. She veered off towards Sean and had to correct her path, giggling all the while. Eventually she found Lewis’s hand, tagged him and he raised his glass. Somehow, Melinda made it back to Sean, who gulped down an entire can of lager and hared towards his stump, overtaking Lewis.
The game became sillier and sillier, and before long they were tumbling into bushes, knocking into each other and laughing helplessly. Bryony ended up sprawled in a heap with Melinda, where they hugged each other, a tangle of legs and arms, and had to be separated before being escorted to the top of the garden.
Bryony hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in a long time. After a ten-minute respite, Sean challenged Lewis to a wheelbarrow race and they staggered off, arms around each other’s shoulders, to Lewis’s house to collect a second wheelbarrow from the Shepherds’ shed. Much to Sean’s delight, they discovered it had a flat tyre, but Lewis was not thwarted by this setback and hauled it back to the party where he was greeted by Melinda and Bryony, cheerleading and pretending to wave pompoms.
Sean’s new game involved each man wheeling his teammate around the stumps and back, draining a glass of beer and then following the course in reverse.
‘You need a woman with some meat on her bones, like mine,’ chortled Sean as he raced down the garden with Melinda bouncing up and down in his wheelbarrow. ‘Good for stability and control,’ he shouted.
‘Shut up, big boy, and keep pushing,’ commented Melinda.
Lewis could not control his barrow. Not only had it got a flat tyre but Bryony’s long legs hung over the side causing more problems for them. They weaved their way down the course, chuckling loudly until the barrow hit a slight bump in the grass and shot off towards the borders where it tipped over and Bryony found herself plonked in a clump of marigolds, flat on her back, weak with laughter. Lewis attempted to drag her to an upright position but being worse for wear himself and somewhat unstable on his own feet, he too fell over, landing on top of her. All attempts to rise once more were abandoned and they sat back-to-back, propping each other up in the flower bed. Bryony discovered an old plastic flowerpot so she stuck it on Lewis’s head, causing them both to laugh like braying donkeys.
Shortly after, Lewis fell asleep slumped against a cold barbecue. Sean lifted him into the broken wheelbarrow and together with a chortling Bryony they meandered off in the direction of Lewis’s house.