The Accidental Life of Greg Millar by Aimee Alexander Read Free Book Online

swings, a climbing frame, trampoline and basketball hoop, two children are playing football with two adults. They are so absorbed, they don’t see us. It’s not a challenge to work out who’s who. The slight, dark-haired boy with the khaki combats and light blue top featuring multi-coloured skulls looks about five: Toby. The equally da rk an d slender, but much taller girl in three-quarter-length denims an d a cerise top has to be Rachel. I try to remember what I was like at ten, what I thought about, liked, disliked. Wish I knew more about older kids. Greg’s brother, Rob, has the trademark family colouring and build, though his face is more boyish than Greg’s. You can tell there’s six years between them. Only Hilary, the nanny, stands out as different – fair and sturdy, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail . She is wearing a loose, long-sleeved T-shirt over st retch denims.
    Rachel tackles Rob.
    Hilary shouts, ‘Go, Rachel.’
    Toby calls to his uncle, ‘Over here, I’m open.’
    I smile.
    Rachel gets the ball. Rob retreats to the goal. He dives as she kicks hard. Toby groans and holds his head while Hilary and Rachel cheer and high-five each other.
    ‘Guys,’ Greg calls. ‘Come meet Lucy.’
    Four heads turn in our direction. Rob’s smile is immediate and wide. He starts towards us. Hilary has to say something to the children to get them to move. I feel guilty for interrupting their game.
    ‘Welcome to the family,’ Rob says, his handshake firm.
    It feels premature, but I smile. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘I see he hasn’t offered you a drink.’ He tut-tuts at his brother. ‘Can I get you a beer?’
    ‘That’d be great, thanks.’
    Hilary arrives with the children. She looks younger, close up. More my age. A year or two older, maybe. The heaviness of her body in the distance must have added years.
    Greg introduces us all.
    ‘Hello,’ I say, smiling from one to the other.
    ‘Hi,’ says Toby, yanking up his trousers.
    Hilary says, ‘Nice top.’
    ‘Oh, thanks.’ I look down to remind myself what I’m wearing. ‘Oh, BT2. Greg got it for me.’
    As Rachel’s face clouds over, I realise my mistake. How stupid to say Greg got it.
    ‘Rachel, say hello to Lucy,’ prompts Greg.
    ‘Hello,’ she mumbles, looking at the ground.
    ‘That was a good goal,’ I say.
    She shrugs without looking up.
    ‘I’m a good kicker,’ declares Toby. ‘Did you see me?’
    ‘Yes, I did. You were great out there on the pitch.’
    He looks to where they were playing, then back at me as if I have visual problems. ‘It’s just the garden.’
    ‘True enough,’ I say, feeling like a fool.
    ‘Can we have our Coke now?’ Rachel asks Hilary, as if that was the bribe for coming over.
    The nanny looks at Greg.
    ‘Sure,’ he says.
    She takes the children inside.
    ‘Back in a sec,’ Greg says, and goes in after them.
    Rob hands me a Corona. ‘Cheers,’ he says, raising his bottle.
    ‘Cheers.’ I clink mine to his.
    The beer calms me. I remind myself that this is never easy. For anyone.
    Then Greg is back, clapping his hands and heading for the barbecue . ‘OK, let’s get this show on the road.’
    ‘Want a hand?’ I offer.
    ‘Nah. You’re grand. Get to know your future brother-in-law. There’s a knack to this thing.’
    Rob and I sit at the long, wooden patio table.
    ‘So, how did you two meet?’ Rob asks, as if I’m a novelty.
    I tell him. Briefly.
    He laughs. ‘Greg Millar flirting in traffic! Wonders will never cease. As for getting engaged after two months . . . I don’t know what you’ve done to him.’
    ‘What I’ve done! It’s completely the other way around. It’s what he’s done to me.’
    ‘Now, now. Don’t get smutty.’
    I laugh. ‘He has such a great philosophy, though . . .’
    ‘Greg? A philosophy?’ He looks dubious.
    ‘Yeah,’ I say, surprised. ‘Live for the moment. Embrace life.’
    ‘Greg?’
    ‘Yes, Greg.’ What’s his problem?
    ‘Well, I don’t know what