Evelyn generally liked a Babycham if there was no chance of the real thing, but in the slightly stuffy, smoky atmosphere of the room over the pub, the idea of the fizzy little drink somehow didn’t appeal. She was still feeling queasy, and alcohol really wasn’t going to help with that.

‘I’ll just have an orange juice, please,’ she said. ‘Fresh, not cordial.’

Ted raised an eyebrow but headed off towards the bar, leaving Evelyn on her own, but he wasn’t gone long, soon making his way back across the crowded room carrying a glass of Britvic Orange and a pint.

He nodded at an empty table to his right. ‘Shall we sit down?’

Evelyn hesitated. If she sat down with him now, then she would probably be stuck with him for the rest of the reception as the other tables would start to fill up when the buffet was served. But would that be so awful? Ted seemed pleasant enough. He was a childhood friend of Jim’s so his credentials were verified and, from what she had garnered so far, he was fun. She could probably do a lot worse and as long as she was careful not to give out the wrong message, spending time with him would be preferable to having to infiltrate other more established groups of guests.

‘That would be lovely,’ she said after what she hoped wasn’t too long a pause.

They sat down and Ted placed her drink in front of her. The tables were decorated with paper tablecloths in a yellow that was more Bird’s Custard than the delicate primrose of Brenda’s outfit, and jam jars sprouting daffodils were dotted about the place, too. It all looked very attractive for a room above a pub.

‘Doesn’t the room look lovely?’ she commented to Ted, more for something to say than anything else. And then, ‘When do you suppose they’ll serve the food?’ She was suddenly and unaccountably ravenous.

Ted shrugged. ‘Not got a clue,’ he said. ‘While we wait, why don’t you tell me something about yourself? How do you know Jim?’

‘I don’t,’ admitted Evelyn. ‘Well, not really. I share a flat with Brenda. Well, shared. She’s moved out now that she’s married.’

‘So you’re on your own?’ asked Ted.

‘Yes,’ replied Evelyn with a sigh. ‘I am. Not sure for how long. I suppose the landlord will get someone in. I certainly can’t afford to pay two lots of rent.’

In fact, she could barely afford to pay one lot until she got paid, something that she usually kept carefully guarded so as not to splinter the slightly skewed reflection of her life that she presented to the world at large. But in this room full of people she neither knew nor wanted to get to know, she wondered whether she couldn’t open up a little to a stranger about the precariousness of her current situation. What harm could it do?

‘If the truth be told, Ted,’ she said, ‘Brenda moving out is going to send me up the creek without a paddle. I’m not at all sure how I’ll cope.’