‘I want to go back to the room,’ Lauren insists. ‘Jude said that he’d call and I’ll never be able to hear my mobile in here.’

‘That’s because we’re at the world’s most fabulous party,’ I tell her. ‘And everyone is having a great time.’

‘Everyone but us.’

She’s right. I’m also miserable due to a lack of male company. And that’s because my husband has – point blank – refused to come. Greg hates this kind of thing. He’d rather have hot needles poked in his eyes than put a suit and tie on outside of office hours. The thought of being in a room filled with beautiful people doing beautiful things would make him go cold with dread. So, instead of coming to my sister’s high-end, celebrity-loaded knees-up with enough champagne to float a ship, he’s chosen to go night fishing on the Grand Union Canal with his exceedingly dreary mate, Ray. That’s all he ever wants to do.

In twenty years of marriage, I have learned more about coarse fishing than I ever needed to. I could tell you the benefits of Dragon Barrel Pellets over Yellow Pop-Ups, if you cared to listen – or the differences between a waggler and a feeder rod. Call me sceptical, but carp, Greg frequently tells me, are very intelligent fish. I do not share my husband’s passion for fishing or his views on the tricksy carp – but that doesn’t stop him from regaling me with many tales of their wily ways.

We did have a tiny bit of a row before I left. If I remember rightly, I said something like, ‘I’m so sick of my small, dull life. This is the only excitement I’ve had in years and you’re not prepared to share it with me. You’re a selfish bastard and if you’re not coming I’m going to have a great time without you. I have to put up with all kinds of things for you and your stupid fishing, and yet you won’t compromise when it comes to my needs. Well, that’s it! I’m off.’

And Greg, I think, closed the door quietly behind him as he left. He didn’t even tell me to enjoy myself.

‘What a morose pair we are,’ Lauren says wearily. ‘Let’s clear off.’

‘Chelsea will be upset. We rarely see her these days.’

‘Our dear sister won’t even notice that we’re gone.’

Lauren’s right again. Chelsea is too busy socialising with all of her rich friends to notice if we slope away. It makes me sad that we’re not closer to her, but Chelsea now lives a crazy jet-set life, splitting her time between the UK and Dubai where her husband is for most of the year. She’s just swooped in for the party – if not on a private jet, then certainly first class.