‘Again, no comment.’ That was one of my better ideas.

Luckily the conversation leads away from our escapades and returns to a competition over who has been witness to the worst treatment of a stag. I’m glad I’m a girl. The worst you get at a hen do is stifling amounts of organization.

Despite not talking or contributing in any meaningful way, I need a break.

At the bar, I am totally overwhelmed by the choice of cocktails. The list is too long, and it’s too dark to read it comfortably. I don’t want to spend fifteen pounds on a cocktail I might not like. White wine it is.

Just as soon as a barman sees me waiting and deigns to take my order …

I’m on tiptoes leaning as far as I dare over the bar, and still nothing. The person next to me has started speaking loudly. I turn to him, my face a picture of dislike.

‘I said, it’s busy tonight, huh?’

A man is talking to me. I make my face look friendlier.

‘It is.’

‘Who are you here with then?’

Is he flirting with me?

I hope not, because I am not in the mood. ‘Oh, those guys over there.’ I point in what I think is vaguely the right direction. ‘It’s a friend’s birthday. It seems like a cool place for drinks, if I ever actually get to try one.’ I roll my eyes and point towards the barman. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to be overly friendly. It’s too loud to talk and I don’t want to miss my opportunity to order a drink. Plus, he’s standing on my bad side.

Luckily he takes the hint and moves on to someone else.

I’m about thirty seconds away from leaving and going back to my warm apartment when Peter sidles up beside me.

‘Looks like you could use a taller escort to help.’

He makes a signal with his hand and, as if by magic, the barman comes over to take our order. Peter orders for a bunch of people before asking, ‘What are you having? It’s my round.’

I swallow and my eyes widen. I hope I’m not expected to pay for a whole round of drinks. From the look of things, a whole round of drinks would destroy a month’s expendable income. Maybe more.

‘Don’t worry – I offered to get these, but nobody else has signed up to doing rounds. You’re safe with me.’

‘I was going to get a white wine.’

‘Hogwash. You’re having an Elderflower Fizz. You’ll love it, and you can give me a sip so I can taste how delicious and refreshing it is before going back to my terribly manly craft beer.’

‘Who says “hogwash”? Is that word still included in the dictionary?’

He ignores me. ‘So, tell me, what’s up between you and Mia?’

Trust Peter to notice something isn’t right. And to have no subtlety when asking about it.