He smiled at his glowing wife and laughed, ‘Babe, I think it might have actually been in the 90s.’ I knew he was kidding, because they hadn’t been together that long, and they shared the joke with a laugh.

‘I love this music too,’ I said. ‘Although, it is weird that they’re playing the same stuff as when I was here a decade ago.’

‘I hope they play some Madonna,’ gushed Marie.

I raised my glass. ‘Last toast,’ I said, feeling a nervous twinge again – another last. ‘And then we can all hit the dance floor.’ Was that a groan from Josh? And if so, was it about the dancing or the toast? I wanted more than anything to dance with him – even though my expectations were not particularly high. That probably doesn’t sound very nice, but he was a geeky computer guy – albeit a sexy, geeky computer guy – so I wasn’t expecting much.

My thoughts of dancing with Josh had distracted me, and three faces looked at me expectantly. ‘To new friends, friends who became family.’ Marie tilted her head to the side and smiled.

‘To family,’ she said, clinking her bottle against mine.

Gary and Josh, repeated, ‘To family,’ and added their bottles to the clinking.

‘Hey,’ said Marie as she looked around. ‘Where’s Hannah?’

‘She’s otherwise occupied,’ replied Josh, signalling to the bar.

‘Ohhh!’ Marie’s reply was accompanied by raised eyebrows.

‘I’m pretty sure they’re gay.’ I laughed.

‘Ooohhh,’ she replied and we both laughed. We all had a sip of beer and almost immediately, I heard, ‘Strike a pose.’

Marie and I squealed like schoolgirls. ‘Madonna!’ we yelled together. We put our beers on the table and she grabbed my hand, pulling me onto the dance floor – well, the giant open space in the centre of the room with no one in it – where we each struck a pose. Gary followed right behind his wife.

And then there was Josh, camping it up like the rest of us. As the music kicked in and we took up as much of the dance floor as we wanted, I was gobsmacked to discover that Josh was a really good dancer. I mean, scarily good. Like, ‘guy who goes to clubs a lot’ or ‘professional dancer’ good.

I shouted over the music. ‘You’re a really good dancer.’

‘You too!’ he replied, then did a little hip manoeuvre that was particularly sexy.

‘I’m kind of surprised.’ Good one, Sarah – not insulting at all. Josh’s response was to laugh.

‘Oh yeah?’

I shook my head, aware that I’d been rude. Why was I so mystified by his dancing prowess – just because he was a geeky tech guy? Maybe he went to clubs a lot – we hadn’t really covered that.

‘I used to take lessons.’ What? Did he say that he used to take dance lessons?

‘Really?’ I was impressed we were having a conversation and Vogueing – well, I might add – but part of my mind was stuck on the whole ‘dance lessons’ thing.