Out Loud

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Three months later...

"Svensson!" Rhys Holyoake's voice came from downstairs.

Ulla grumbled, "Alright, alright," under her breath, and shouted, stepping out of the bedroom, "I'm coming!"

James Whitlaw stood on the landing, and she saw a wide grin spread on his face.

"Oh, don't tell me," she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. "That's what she said?"

He burst into loud guffaws.

"Are you sloshed already, Jimmy boy?" Ulla asked sarcastically, and he saluted her with a lager bottle in his hand. "Rhys!" she shouted towards the drawing room. "Why are we taking Whitlaw with us?"

She bounced down the stairs, followed by James.

"Because he's one of the boys," John Holyoake answered from his spot in the armchair, his fingers dancing on his Android he tended to be permanently glued to.

"But do we have to go to a karaoke?" Whitlaw whined. "Why do you, Holyoakes, never do the normal stuff, like a strip club or bowling?"

"Because it annoys you, peasants," John answered, and Ulla snorted.

Will gave out a low chuckle from the sofa, and Ulla met his eyes. He gave her a wink, and she dramatically rolled her eyes.

"And now that we have Svensson, I don't have to listen to your bog standard rendition of Psycho Killer," Rhys said, coming in from the kitchen.

"Oi, I'm training him," Ulla said and shook her finger at Rhys. "He's my second best tenor."

She habitually waited for Oliver to take her coat out of the closet and to hold it for her to get dressed.

"He's still squeaky," Rhys deadpanned.

Whitlaw who was pushing his arms in the sleeves of his jacket emitted a loud disgruntled noise.

"Sam's joining us there," Oliver said to Ulla. She smiled at him. "Where's your brother?" he asked James.

"He'll be at the club later," James answered. "He's driving Arthur."

"Ah, the Arthur Cole," Ulla drew out and threw Oli a cheeky side glance. His lips twitched.

"I still don't get it," James said. "What is it about Cole? Why do all of the birds - and you, Rev - see in him?"

Ulla giggled, and Oli pressed his hand to his chest and sighed.

"Well, you see, James," Oliver said in a ridiculous sultry voice, "there's just something so sexy about–"

"Out!" Rhys barked at them. "The hall's small, and we all need our jackets."

Oliver opened the door, and pushed James out, who stumbled backwards onto the porch of the vicarage, hollering, "I'm letting you get away with your shite, Rhys, only because–" He slipped on the welcome mat that Ulla had chosen so lovingly, flailed his arms, but kept his balance. "It's your stag night!" he finished already from the pavement.

Oliver followed him, laughing, and Ulla stepped out as well. Behind her Will and John were putting on their coats, and she tossed the keys to John, who caught them with his left hand, seemingly without looking.

"Show off," Rhys grumbled, throwing Ulla his signature 'can you believe this tosser?' look, and she giggled.

My Holyoake boys.

James was already climbing into Ulla's Honda, and John unlocked his Range Rover for Will.

"I could've driven us," Rhys said.

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