Music and laughter spilt from the open door and windows. His eyes moved between her and the house, the bottle of wine held against his leg.

‘All right,’ he said, after a moment, and she felt a little zing of pleasure as she thought of Anton, the opportunity this afforded them, and led Greg up the steps.

They entered a sea of noise. Hilary felt like she’d been underwater for hours, and now, coming up for air, she was assaulted by the sensory overload. Women’s laughter seemed sharp and piercing. The men were shouting to be heard. A thick pall of cigarette smoke hung in the air, and everywhere she turned there was the press of bodies, people pushing to get past.

‘I see Charlotte.’ Greg pointed, and Hilary looked past him and saw the hostess coming down the hall holding two plates of finger food aloft. She was wearing a sea-green sleeveless floaty number, hoop earrings gold against her hair. ‘We should say hello,’ Greg said, already raising his hand in greeting.

‘Look who it is!’ Charlotte said, her smile broad but not quite reaching her eyes, which flicked with surprised curiosity from Greg to Hilary.

‘We’re being very cheeky,’ Hilary admitted. ‘Shameless gatecrashing. But we heard the music so …’

‘Not at all! It’s wonderful to see you both.’

Hilary tried to match her smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. She felt uneasy in Charlotte’s presence. There was a hardness beneath the hostessy good manners that put her on edge. And then Charlotte’s eyes swept over Hilary’s body, taking in the jeans, the sandals, the smock shirt she wore when painting and decorating – she hadn’t bothered to change when they went out for pizza.

‘My God, Hilary, whatever are you wearing?’ Charlotte asked, her eyes widening with amusement.

Hilary’s cheeks flushed, her temper flaring.

‘Here,’ Greg said quickly, offering Charlotte the wine. ‘A peace-offering.’

Hilary glared at him.

‘Oh, now, there’s no need for that,’ Charlotte said, admonishing him in a mocking way. ‘Would you mind putting the wine in the kitchen, darling? I’ve my hands full!’ She held aloft her platters and moved to go past them. ‘And help yourselves to a drink!’

In the kitchen, they squeezed past the crowd gathered there to the counter by the sink. Greg put down their bottle and picked up one that was open, poured wine into two paper cups and handed one to her.

‘A peace-offering?’ she said to him, watching as he gulped his wine. ‘Why did you say that?’

‘I was being nice.’

He was looking past her now, his head bobbing a little to the syncopated beat of the music. ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca’ was playing.

‘If anything, she’s the one who should be apologizing to me.’