‘I got William’s mother to find his address book, which she did and posted to me. I must say it did seem a little bit old but it was all I had to go on so I just invited everyone in it.’

‘So his bank manager might be here?’ asked Gilly, laughing in spite of trying not to.

‘If his bank manager loves William enough to come then he’s welcome,’ said Daphne. ‘Now, here we are!’

Feeling chastened, Gilly moved backwards so she was at the rear of the crowd which was now gathering round the cake. Daphne found William, took hold of his wrist and brought him forward.

Gilly studied him for signs of stress, of being utterly miserable, but he seemed to have risen to the occasion quite well. He always dressed fairly formally so although he might have had to remove his tie to look party-ready, he did look very nice. Very nice indeed, Gilly thought, and realised she was probably biased. She couldn’t help wondering what ruse Daphne had come up with to make him come to the hotel.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Daphne, ‘we are all gathered together to wish this young man a very happy birthday. But before we all make a hideous noise singing one of the dullest tunes in history, I think William would like to make a short speech.’

William looked around him easily, not rushing to speak but acknowledging his guests with a smile. ‘I think when my aunt said I would like to make a speech, she really means she thinks I ought to make one. While I’m not one for speeches normally I am very glad of the opportunity to thank you all so much for coming. It is really great to have this chance to catch up with old friends – people I haven’t seen for far too long.’

There were cheers and comments that indicated how fond his guests were of William and then there was the obligatory song.

Then Daphne bustled forward again. While she clearly adored William she didn’t really like being out of the limelight. ‘Now we’ve got that out of the way, I’d like to draw your attention to this wonderful cake! I think you should all have a good look at it before it’s cut.’

It seemed to Gilly, who was suddenly overcome with nerves, that everyone with a phone took a picture of the cake. All she wanted was for William to like it, and maybe to say so. Then she could have a quick drink and slip away.

She reckoned without Daphne.

‘Now,’ Daphne said, brandishing a large knife she had got from somewhere, ‘while this isn’t a wedding’ – pause for laughter – ‘it is an occasion and this magnificent cake, which I think is a work of art, recognises that. And I’d like to introduce you to the wonderful woman who made it. Gilly!’