In Case You Missed It. Lindsey Kelk

      ‘Rosalind, there you are.’

      Instead, I found my parents.

      ‘I’m so glad we found you,’ Mum said, her cheeks pink and eyes bright. ‘We’ve something to tell you. Do you want to do it, Alan, or shall I?’

      ‘You tell her,’ Dad replied, kissing the back of her hand all the way up her arm like an about-to-be-fired 1980s waiter.

      ‘No, you do it,’ she insisted, all giddy. ‘It was your idea.’

      It was still so strange to see my parents engaged in any kind of physical display of affection. I knew other people’s parents got touchy-feely on occasion but mine just didn’t, especially not my dad and especially not in public. But here he was, M&S sweater draped over his shoulders, socks pulled halfway up his calves and a spring in his step I’d never seen before. And, if I was being brutally honest, My Horny Dad didn’t feel like something that had been missing from my life.

      ‘Well, one of you needs to tell me,’ I cut in, fighting back the hordes of theories popping up in my mind. They’d started a swingers’ club. They were taking up naked tennis. They were starting a naked tennis swingers’ club. ‘Out with it?’

      ‘It was all this romance,’ Dad said, gazing around the Andersons’ back garden, seemingly seeing a very different party to the one I was attending. ‘It got me thinking. We’ve got our ruby wedding anniversary coming up in a few weeks and I thought, rather than celebrate the past, why not celebrate today? Why not do it again?’

      ‘Do what again?’ I asked, eyeing John over Dad’s shoulder. He was happily chatting to Mrs Danvers from down the street, my epic putdown clearly not weighing on him in the slightest.

      ‘Your dad asked me to marry him!’ Mum said, clinging to her husband like a loved-up limpet.

      ‘But you’re already married.’ I blinked at them, confused. ‘Wait, you are, aren’t you? You didn’t get secretly divorced or anything?’

      ‘It’ll be a second wedding, a vow renewal,’ Dad clarified. ‘Our first one was so long ago, this time we want to celebrate with everyone who makes our lives so special.’

      ‘And the first one wasn’t necessarily everything it could have been,’ Mum added, Dad nodding along in solemn agreement. ‘I want this time to be perfect.’

      It had never really occurred to me before but I didn’t know much about my parents’ wedding. They didn’t have a single photo up anywhere and they never talked about it the way my married friends did.

      ‘And I know you’re going to say no but I would very much like you and your sister to be my bridesmaids. It would mean a lot to me if you would at least consider it.’

      ‘While you’re living with us, rent free,’ Dad added, clearing his throat with a subtle cough.

      I smiled and wrapped them both up in a giant Reynolds sandwich, throwing as much enthusiasm as I could muster into the mix.

      ‘This all sounds lovely,’ I told them, a giant smile pasted on my face. Who wouldn’t want to be a single thirty-two-year-old bridesmaid for her own parents? What a dream come true. ‘Anything I can do to help, just say the word. While I’m living with you, rent free.’

      ‘There is quite a lot to plan,’ Mum agreed, her fingers woven tightly through my dad’s. ‘But I think we’ll make short work of it all together.’

      ‘Anything you plan will be perfect, Gwen,’ Dad replied, shoulders straight, tall and proud. If they hadn’t been my parents, it would have been adorable to see the two of them nuzzling, so very much in love.

      But they were, so it wasn’t.

      I turned away, pretending to be checking something in my handbag as they snuggled into each other, mutterings of love turning into noisy public kisses.

      There it was. My phone lit up, quietly announcing one new text message from Patrick Parker.

      I stopped for a moment, paralysed.

      Until I opened the message, it could say anything. It could be an apology or a declaration of love. It could say ‘I’m good thanks’ and nothing else ever again. It could be a wedding photo, a christening announcement, that GIF of the husky that looked like it was telling you a terrible joke. I could delete it now and never know. Or I could open it and live with the consequences.

      Shuffling away from my parents, I opened the message.

      Doing anything tonight?

      I looked back the bar where John was happily chatting away with Adrian’s mum and silently cursed him and his precognitive powers.

      Not really, I replied quickly. Fancy a drink?