Holy shit! It’s the man I potentially identified as Rupert MacDonald. I was right.

His voice is different from how I imagined it to be. It’s quite, well, feminine.

‘Hi. And actually yes, I do remember. I spent a lot of time staring at your back.’ Oops. ‘Because we were in the library, I mean. I spent most of my time staring at anything that wasn’t actually a book.’ Awkward.

‘Yeah, I get what you mean. Honestly, I always sat there because I felt I would be letting everyone down if I didn’t show up.’ He has no idea. ‘Like we were all studying together and if one of us failed, we all would. That’s what I told myself anyway. It’s the only way I got good enough grades to pass.’

‘Hey, you gotta do whatever works for you.’ Like ogling a stranger’s back for three years. ‘So what do you do now? Except go to awkward social gatherings.’

‘I’m a curtain manager.’

‘Oh! Cool!’ A what?

‘Yeah, it’s slightly unusual I guess, as careers go. I get to see a lot of shows. Although I’ve been on the same show for the last year, so it’s probably time to move on. It’s pretty fun though.’

‘Yeah, I can imagine.’ I’m getting there. Curtains at the theatre. Can’t be as simple as it sounds. ‘So what does it entail? I’m so intrigued.’

‘Well, I basically open the curtain at the beginning of the show, close it for the interval, and repeat for the second half.’

Huh. It is as simple as it sounds. It’s not the life I’d thought Rupert would have. I’d assumed he would work for a bank and be a part-time model. I find it quite inspiring. He’s following his dream.

Thankfully the person who went to hunt down the red wine has returned, and not a moment too soon. I don’t really know where else to take this conversation. ‘Here’s your drink. Sorry about the delay.’

‘Oh, no worries. Thank you.’ I turn back to Rupert. ‘It was really nice to talk to you. I hope you have much success with … finding new curtains to open.’

Oh God. Did that sound like a euphemism?

I smile, hopefully in a kind, not a creepy, manner, and turn away.

Something adjacent to a laugh cuts through the noise of the room. It’s Harriet. I wonder if my strength has replenished enough to re-join the circle that has formed around her. I wander closer to the group.

‘… and then when we realized it was tap water we all got up and left. Who would serve tap water to people you should be trying to impress?’

Nope. I can’t help it; I shake my head. She’s not someone I need to make more effort with.

I sail straight past, suddenly finding a painting in the corner of the room very interesting.

I think the painting is really very bad, but I do the head-tilt thing anyway.

‘I think I would demand to get my money back if I’d commissioned a painting of myself and it came out like that.’