‘Ta. I thought it was about time I spoiled myself,’ she said. ‘And you look super, too. We’re both very done up tonight. Er, are you alone? Drew not with you?’

Maddy shook her head. Kimberley had probably dressed up for Drew. As she had. ‘He said he thought he’d be back sometime today, but there have been delays with the horse he’s bringing over.’

‘He’ll have to be getting himself a stable jockey, unless he’s going to employ freelancers.’ Kimberley swallowed the remains of the hot-dog. ‘He could do worse than Charlie Somerset for his jumpers, especially now old Pettigrove is retiring. I must mention it to Drew.’

‘Yes, do.’ Maddy wasn’t really listening. She had just spotted Peter and Stacey through a gap in the roses. ‘I’m sure he’d be interested. Kimberley, will you excuse me?’

‘Yes, of course. And Maddy, if Drew does turn up, you will ask him to talk to me, won’t you? About Charlie Somerset, of course?’

Poor Kimberley, Maddy thought sadly. Like the overgrown schoolgirl she was, she wore her heart on her sleeve. She dived behind the honeysuckle. Peter was wearing the cream trousers again. She hoped Drew would turn up. They could laugh about it. Stacey, with her blonde curls on top of her head like a poodle, was wearing a white mini-skirt and a black top that ended just beneath her non-existent chest. Maddy didn’t want to face either of them.

Ducking down, she made her way round the outside of the lawn and reached the barbecue through a gap in the runner-bean sticks. Several people looked at her in surprise as she emerged, picking bits of twig out of her hair.

‘’Ello, Maddy!’ Brenda yelled, clutching hold of a curly- haired child in each hand. ‘You been doing a spot of gardening?’

‘I got a bit lost. Are you in charge of the food?’

‘Me an’ Elaine,’ Brenda beamed, letting go of the children just long enough to run a vicious knife expertly through a dozen rolls. ‘Watcha want to eat?’

‘Oh, nothing, thanks.’ The fried onions were making Maddy’s mouth water, but she couldn’t risk them. ‘I’ll get something later. There seems to be plenty.’

‘Loads,’ said Brenda. ‘You know Kimberley, she don’t stint ’erself.’

There were rows of sausages and burgers, chicken legs and steaks, salmon and tuna, all shimmering deliciously over the red-hot glow, and three side tables piled with salads, pickles, and breads. Maddy’s stomach rumbled.

‘Oh look, there’s Peter and Stacey.’ Brenda nodded her perm over Maddy’s shoulder. ‘They’re all got up like dog’s dinners, aren’t they, Maddy? I said –’

But Maddy, feeling like an extra in a Carry On film, had dived back into the runner-bean tunnel.