I look around the table where I’m seated. It’s filled with three couples who I think are related to Jim, Jackie’s new husband. After introductions were made, they’ve mostly occupied themselves by talking together. I was supposed to be sitting with Aidan, as my dad is at a university function, but Aidan had an emergency come up at work and will be here later. I don’t mind. I can’t find much conversation in me. If I opened my mouth, I’d probably beg to lie down, so it’s best all-round that I don’t.

My attention is raised when one of the women says Misha’s name. I glance up to see two of my tablemates staring at the top table. “That’s Jackie’s son,” one of the women, a redhead, says. “He’s very handsome.”

The other woman shrugs, her dark hair starting to slip out of its updo. “Not surprising. Jackie’s pretty, and have you seen the girls?”

The redhead nods. “Their father must have been something,” she muses. “Judging by the son.” She laughs, a light tinkling sound that irritates me even though laughter usually makes me smile. “Adam’s mesmerised, anyway.”

I frown as I notice Misha is in deep conversation with the man who’s been sitting next to him for the meal. He’s a good-looking man in his mid-twenties with longish dark hair and a light tan. I think he’s some relation of Jim’s. Maybe a nephew. Whoever he is, he’s obviously very interested in what Misha has to say, leaning forward far too close and laughing a lot. I swallow. I know the look on Misha’s face. I’ve seen it many times in our past.

The dark-haired lady’s voice intrudes. “He’s a good speaker anyway. His speech was very funny.”

I smile because it had been a lovely speech. Very typical Misha. He’s entirely at ease about speaking in public, and, while toasting his mum and Jim, he’d been wry, yet still warm and affectionate.

The redhead chuckles. “Made me laugh, that bit about laying down his responsibilities now that Jim has entered the family. I expect it’s a relief for him after looking after his mum and sisters for so long.”

The other woman looks towards the table again. “Well, if Adam has anything to do with it, he won’t be alone tonight.” She shrugs. “Adam’s a good catch for Misha. He’s got a good job in the city. I think he just came back from Barcelona.”

My smile dies as I look up at the table where Misha is laughing at something this “good catch” has said. A waiter delivers two shots to them, and I watch wistfully as they grin and throw them down. He can’t do that with me. I’ll never be able to drink again.