Joanna kisses me on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Becca.’

Shit. Now I feel guilty. Maybe I should tell her it’s from Bert; that I forgot to get one. But I’m afraid of being judged by her friends: ‘Imagine that, her sister-in-law never got her a gift.’ I can almost hear their acquired accents.

Standing on my own with a half eaten cupcake in my hand, I think about what Danny said about staying away from anything to do with Katie Collins. I’ll have to tell him it’s a bit late for that. Inform him that his sister is a frigging suspect. I wonder how he’ll react. I hope he’ll help me.

The judgment of a young solicitor is being delivered close by. The woman has managed to drop her current profession into the conversation at least twice so far, while discussing how poor Lisa Evans’ husband has left her for Mila. Her audience stand aghast, except for one brave girl who says she’s not surprised. No more bubbly for her.

Another topic of interest seems to be the sudden growth of Janet Jones; apparently she has put on at least two stone since the solicitor last saw her, ‘the poor thing.’

I’m glad she’s not aware of my production. Wanted for murder. That would keep them all here long enough to dip into the tiny sandwiches.

I’m considering making an early exit, faking an urgent phone call or something, when Edel calls for order, clinking a spoon on one of the bubbly glasses. The unwrapping of the gifts is about to commence.

The smell of expensive perfumes crash into one another in the rush to get a seat near Joanna. The resulting concoction would upset even the nose blind. I stand as far away as possible without giving the impression of being disinterested. I didn’t realize these things were so serious, that there’s a protocol to follow.

Please don’t open my gift first, I pray, leaning close to the gap in the open patio door. She doesn’t; Joanna goes straight for the one on top. She rests it on her bump, unwrapping it as if the paper is on loan and has to be returned in perfect condition. When I get a gift, I like to tear at the wrapping paper – it’s half the fun. And Mom knew I loved it, she wrapped all my Christmas gifts separately, no matter how many there were. After ten minutes the room would look like a storm had blown in from Walmart. I loved it.

Three gifts have been unwrapped already to a chorus of oohs and aahs. With my nerves on edge I watch Joanna lifting my gift – Bert’s gift.

‘And this is from…?’ Edel’s eyes search the room like she’s waiting for a final bid at Sotheby’s.