‘Otherwise known as the Frea-K Three-K!’ Kyron added.
‘We’re triplets!’ Kylo finished off, looking on the brink of jazz hands.
‘Wonderful,’ Yasmin replied, sounding like she couldn’t have meant it less. ‘And your business idea?’
‘We’re triplets,’ Kyle said.
‘And you can make money from that?’ Kate asked, perplexed.
‘Forty thousand followers and counting,’ Kyron said, snapping his fingers.
‘Sweet!’ Jaxx nodded, impressed.
‘I’m confused. How does that make you money?’ Yasmin asked.
‘Before we get into that, how about we go over the aims of the group,’ I tried to say, but was interrupted by Frea-K Three-K jumping to their feet and then proceeding to carry out some sort of choreographed performance that combined rap with cheerleading moves and possibly some martial arts. I have to say, it was surprisingly good. We all spontaneously applauded when they’d finished.
Of course, that was a mistake. If the rap hadn’t been enough, the sound of clapping had Irene appearing faster than Nesbit when he heard me open the fridge.
‘Really?’ she barked, checking her watch. ‘Fifty minutes into the first meeting and we’ve turned the library into a burlesque club?’
‘Ooh, burlesque!’ Kyron (or was it Kylo? I’d lost track during the performance) exclaimed, grabbing his brother’s arm. ‘Great idea!’
‘Can I just say, your style is fabulous!’ Probably-Kyle said, making a sweeping gesture from Irene’s head to her square-shoed toes. ‘The whole retro-nerdy look is so on right now. I mean, many have tried but few can pull it off. Is that cardigan actual vintage nineties?’
‘And the brooch!’ Possibly-Kylo gushed. ‘I would offer to buy it off you, except it would be a crime to separate it from that blouse.’
‘Um, what is happening here?’ Irene stammered, clutching at the brooch, which was shaped like a swan with green gems for eyes.
‘It’s the Wednesday Business Builders, being Frea-Kayed out! Kyle, Kyron and Kylo,’ Kyle said, pointing to each of them in turn.
‘You’re joining us, aren’t you?’ Kyron asked. ‘I have so many questions.’
‘I don’t think…’
‘Come on, the seat next to me is free,’ Kyle said, pulling out a chair. ‘One more cappuccino, please, Trev. Hang on a minute, is that a genuine horse-hair belt, Kate?’
Well, the rest of the meeting certainly kept my mind off the looming grandparental reunion. The remaining hour was mostly spent getting to know each other, along with compiling a list of useful topics for further meetings, which wasn’t anywhere near as straightforward as it sounds.
The triplets were polite enough to take a sample of Nomato, promising to share on social media if they liked it. Yasmin was able to find common ground with Kate when it turned out she made biodegradable dog beds, and I found a moment to discreetly speak to the boys about their tattoos. That led to a horribly disturbing internet search to confirm my point, but by the time Kylo had stopped sobbing, the other two had already managed to pick off most of the Ks, which it turned out were only temporary stick-ons due to their needle phobia.
‘No wonder that picture got only fifteen likes,’ Kyron said, clutching his cheeks in dismay.
‘Yeah, and that explains some of the DMs we got afterwards,’ Kyle agreed.
‘Thanks, Ollie. Our first meeting and you’ve already saved our brand!’ Kylo added.
‘And we got to meet Irene,’ Kyle said, before showing her that the pictures they’d steamrollered her into appearing in earlier had already got hundreds of likes and dozens of comments. ‘You’ve got almost as many fans as us already!’
‘We should totally set you up with your own account,’ Kyron squealed.
When I showed Joan after picking her up from the holiday club, #IreneTheLibraryLady already had over a thousand followers.
‘This world is crazy,’ she pronounced. ‘That’s why I prefer books, because they make more sense.’
I eyed her current read, about a gang of chameleon people who go back in time to save the dinosaurs, and was inclined to agree.
That evening we were in for an absolute treat. Ginger, who owned Hatherstone Hall, brought round a three-course dinner that if possible rivalled the one I’d eaten when Sam had gatecrashed my dinner for one.
Joan didn’t agree. ‘That looks weird. And there’s bits of mushroom. I hate mushrooms.’ She peered into each foil container in turn and sniffed. ‘I might try the pudding.’
I stuck some fish fingers in the oven and dashed next door.
‘Yes?’ Ebenezer automatically glanced at my hands, no doubt expecting to find them bearing food.
‘Hi, how are you, Ebenezer?’ I asked, deliberately mentioning his friendly nickname with a smile that dared him to tell me it was none of my business.
‘Been better. Been worse,’ he growled. ‘Did you want something, other than forcing me out of my chair after I’ve spent all afternoon pruning our roses.’
‘Our roses?’
He grunted. ‘The big thorny flowers that climb up the side fence.’
I said nothing. He knew what I meant.
‘I’ve got a three-course dinner from Hatherstone Hall keeping warm in my top oven. Joan is opting for fish fingers and chips.’
‘Sensible of her.’
‘It’s far too nice to eat alone.’
‘That’s a shame.’
‘Dinner will be served at the outside table in ten minutes. There’s also a very expensive bottle of wine.’
Ebenezer’s face remained a grizzled scowl, but his beard twitched, which I knew to be a good sign.
‘The dessert is white chocolate and sticky toffee pudding.’ Joan could try my portion. If she liked it, I’d have a biscuit instead.
Ebenezer shut the door. It was hard to tell, but I thought it might be slower than when he slammed it, so I took that as a yes.
Fifteen minutes later, as I sat, heart in my mouth, feeling more nervous than I had on my first ever date, Ebenezer’s back door creaked open.
As soon as he shuffled outside, I saw the reason for his delay, causing my throat to constrict with emotion. Dressed in a faded, crumpled dinner jacket and white shirt, with a paisley pocket square and matching tie, Ebenezer had even tidied his beard.
Joan wolf-whistled, causing an eye roll, but there was that beard twitch again, and I felt such a rush of warmth I had to blot my eyes on my napkin.
‘Well, I’m glad I got changed, now.’ It was another warm evening, and I’d swapped my work trousers for a strappy dress with a full skirt.
He grunted again. ‘It’s only respectful to look smart for a lady.’
‘You look an absolute dish.’
Now, that was definitely a smile.
Being a polite, tactful adult, there was no way I was about to start grilling Ebenezer for personal information. My eleven-year-old companion had no such qualms.
‘How long have you lived in Middle Cottage?’
‘I was born there.’
‘Woooahhh!’ Joan said. ‘That must be nearly a hundred years ago.’