He knew which wines were his own favourites, but he wasn’t going to spoil the fun by announcing them. Taste in wine was an individual thing. He couldn’t help feeling proud of them, almost like people felt about their children. You brought them up from babyhood and nursed them, not through croup and sore throats but by spraying, pruning and trellising, protecting them from mildew and natural disasters like frost in April or too much rain – or too little.

‘How amazing. I love the labels!’ Liam turned in surprise, since the wine tasting wasn’t due to start for another fifteen minutes, to find Jo standing behind him wearing a beautifully cut black cocktail dress.

‘You’ve dressed for the occasion,’ he smiled.

‘It’s Nicky and Ronnie’s last night. I thought it ought to be a bit special. Like you putting the labels on the bottles.’

‘You’ll also be trying our first crémant. I think it’s pretty great.’

‘Aren’t we supposed to be the judge of that?’ Jo realized she was sounding flirtatious, but what the hell. Why else had she deliberately turned up before the others, dressed like this?

‘I was damn proud of it, as a matter of fact,’ Liam grinned. ‘The château’s never produced a wine with fizz, so it’s my personal Everest, if you like.’

‘Aha,’ teased Jo. ‘Your Edmund Hillary moment. I wondered when we’d get to the list of famous Kiwis. I gather you’re all pretty sensitive about that.’

He laughed. ‘Only because bloody Westerners make us sensitive. Like drawing up lists to show there aren’t any.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Sir Edmund Hillary, Rutherford who split the atom, Kiri Te Kanawa . . .’

‘Good girl!’ His laugh was infectious. ‘Have you been Googling that as well by any chance?’

‘That’s a bit vain,’ Jo laughed. ‘Why on earth would I do that? Just to impress you?’

He looked abashed. ‘I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t.’

Jo, who had been doing precisely that, gave in. ‘Actually,’ she confessed, ‘I did!’ Margot would be horrified at this failure to play the seduction game. ‘I can even add a few more. Jonah Lomu the rugby player, although I confess I’d never heard of him. Sir Peter Jackson who made Lord of the Rings, Lorde the pop singer . . .’

‘Flight of the Conchords, the comedy boys; and I’m afraid that’s that.’

They were both still laughing when Nicky and Ronnie arrived with Steph and David. ‘What’s the big joke?’ Ronnie demanded.

‘Oh, nothing,’ Jo shrugged. ‘Just silly stuff about Liam being from New Zealand.’

Meredith and Sophie arrived moments later with some delicious snacks on a tray. ‘Just some foie gras, olives and other nibbles,’ Sophie announced, putting them down on a side table.

‘OK, is everyone here?’ Liam enquired. ‘And which of you ladies is the bride?’

‘I am,’ Nicky smiled.