I shift my weight. ‘You’re going to work at a pub? Serving beer to drunks all day?’
She rolls her eyes in my direction this time. ‘They’re patrons, not drunks.’ She looks back at the man. ‘I actually met the owner the day I arrived. Walked into his pub, dripping wet, and he was kind enough to not throw me out.’
My jaw works. ‘You didn’t happen to be wearing a white T-shirt at the time, did you?’
She ignores me entirely and keeps talking to the man. ‘I’ve eaten there pretty much every day, and he was nice enough to give me a job.’
If she’s trying to make me jealous, it’s working. ‘Did you impress him with your beer-pouring skills?’
‘He offered to train me,’ she replies.
The man smiles encouragingly at her. ‘Sounds like he saw potential in you.’
I nod in agreement. ‘I bet he did.’
‘He’s a nice guy,’ she says, defending him. ‘I could do with some nice men in my life.’
I’m about to ask for the address of this establishment, so I can set it alight, when a woman wanders over to get a lamington from the plate. She notices Annie’s necklace.
‘This is lovely. Very unique.’
Annie reaches up to touch it. ‘Thank you.’
‘Oooh, you’ve got the whole set,’ the woman says, lifting one of Annie’s arms to inspect the bracelets. ‘Brisbane has some great markets if you like this kind of thing.’
‘She makes them herself,’ I say.
‘Really?’
Annie looks at me. ‘Yeah. It’s a hobby of mine.’
Bridget wanders over to see what we’re talking about.
‘You didn’t mention what a clever sister you have,’ the woman says. ‘Two creative girls in the family.’
Bridget stares at the necklace. ‘You’ve gotten really good.’
‘And I see you have one too,’ the woman says, coming over to me.
I attempt to put my hand in my pocket, but the woman catches it with surprising speed, lifting it to display the worn band to everyone.
Annie stares at it while the conversation continues around her, then steps back from the group. ‘Excuse me.’
I know I should leave her be, give her a chance to process everything, but I don’t. I go looking for her, finding her in the kitchen. She’s studying the cake I brought.
‘I didn’t think to get a cake,’ she says, not looking up.
I grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with water, leaning against the sink as I drink. At least she’s speaking to me. ‘Why would you?’
She carefully lifts it out of the box and sets it on a plate. ‘How does the song go again?’
It takes me a moment to realise which song she’s referring to. I speak the lyrics for her. ‘Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Bridget. And don’t forget to hold the note for her name.’ I pause. ‘Happy birthday to you.’
She watches me a moment longer, then looks down. ‘They’re all expecting cake, right? That’s why they’re still here?’
I move closer, stopping when I see her tense up. Slowly, I reach for the candles and hand them to her. ‘Yes, they’ll be waiting for cake. It’s rude to leave before.’
Annie presses a single candle in between the strawberries, and I fetch the matches from atop the fridge.