I glanced down at my phone. No reply to my last three messages, the one letting him know we were ordering dinner or the two I’d sent to make sure he was OK.

‘Sweet Ros,’ Sumi sighed, resting her head on a pile of jackets and jumpers she had pulled onto the table. ‘Sweet, naïve Ros.’

‘He’s coming,’ I insisted. He’d said he was coming, he had no reason to lie. ‘He’s just caught up with his writing.’

‘Or he’s been abducted by aliens,’ Adrian suggested. ‘Or he’s run off to join the circus.’

‘I do hope he’s all right,’ Lucy said, rubbing her stomach. ‘The circus isn’t as safe as people think.’

‘He’s not coming,’ Sumi whispered to the coats, pressing a finger to her lips as she shushed them.

‘He’s fine and he is coming,’ I repeated. ‘I didn’t know there was a time limit on when people could celebrate Sumi’s birthday?’

‘I’d say usually before midnight,’ John suggested, taking a sip of his drink. ‘But that’s just me. I’m old-fashioned like that.’

‘And preferably before the birthday girl passes out,’ Adrian added, nodding down the table, where Sumi was resting her head on her hands, eyes closed, mouth open.

‘I’m not passed out,’ she replied without moving. ‘I want to go dancing.’

‘Yes, brilliant idea!’ I exclaimed, jumping up too quickly and forgetting about my roller rink injury. It wasn’t half going to hurt in the morning. ‘Let’s go dancing. Where’s the best place to go around here?’

‘Dancing, yeah,’ Sumi cheered quietly, face planted on the table, waving her arms from side to side.

‘We could go dancing,’ Lucy suggested, pulling at her tights. ‘Or I could go home to a nice elasticated waistband and my pregnancy pillow.’

‘Pregnancy pillow, yeah,’ Sumi cheered quietly, face planted on the table, waving her arms from side to side.

‘We should get her home,’ Adrian said. ‘If she falls asleep, we’ll have to carry her.’

‘Again,’ John added.

‘But it’s so early!’ I protested, even though I already knew the party was as good as over. All around the table, people were folding up their napkins and ferreting around in handbags. ‘And look, we’ve got a fresh round of drinks, we can’t go yet. Adrian, it’s Saturday night and it’s only just eleven. There’s no way you’re going home.’

I grabbed the jug of margaritas and began pouring them into everyone’s glasses, ignoring their protests.

‘Sorry, chuck,’ he said, ruffling a hand through his gingery blond hair. ‘I’m afraid I’m tapping out. I’ve signed up for CrossFit in the morning so I need to be fresh-ish at the very least.’