James Royce-Royce managed to maintain hug contact while turning to face someone else. “You’re married to our Bridget. There are a number of problems I can anticipate in your future life, but tedium is not one of them.” His expression grew slightly marshmallowy. “In my experience, Luc, married life is rather wonderful. And, of course, now we have Baby J, which means every day is a fresh adventure.”

Oh God. We were about to be told a fresh adventure. I was at a party, celebrating the end of my youthful bachelorhood while one of my married friends regaled us with stories about his baby.

“Of course,” James Royce-Royce went on, “we should probably be calling him Toddler J now.”

James Royce-Royce shook his head. “No, it’s fine. We’re using baby as an affectionate diminutive not as reference to a specific developmental stage.”

“There’s no need to be so literal, darling. I was just making a funny.” Letting me go, James Royce-Royce produced his phone and started scrolling. “Yesterday he made a tower of three blocks, using the blue, the red, and the purple, which I think shows a natural aesthetic sense, but apparently four blocks is what we’re shooting for.”

We were shown the tower. Then the tower with the blocks in a slightly different order. Then an earlier version of the tower which had only been two blocks. None of which distracted from the fact that Affectionate Diminutive J still looked like a goblin.

“Well,” I said, “isn’t he…clever.”

And, once again, I wished Oliver was with me. Because he could say things like that and he wouldn’t sound sarcastic.

“You may scoff, Luc O’Donnell,” declared James Royce-Royce. “This will be you in a few years’ time.”

“Actually,” I said, “I don’t like to brag but I reckon I could stack three blocks on top of each other right now.”

Putting a hand on his hip, James Royce-Royce somehow managed to pout with his eyes. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You and Oliver must have talked about it.”

Shitting hell… “Must we?”

“You’re about to get married. Of course, you should have. What if one of you does and one of you doesn’t?”

Oh no. What if one of us did and one of us didn’t? What if I did? What if I didn’t? We could barely agree on band versus DJ, let alone baby versus not baby. My options were to calmly reflect on the sensible advice my good friend was giving me or get incredibly fucking defensive. “Oh right,” I said. “Because I suppose you two knew everything about each other’s plans and goals and hopes and dreams before you even got engaged.”

“Obviously we did.” James Royce-Royce was trying really hard not to be aghast but was failing dismally. “Marriage is a serious commitment. It’s forever, Luc.”