Clio waved a hand, fingernails painted green like Sally Bowles. ‘I felt I owed it to myself tonight. At this age, you can’t throw a big party for yourself then trudge out in front of everyone letting all the … fiftyness drag your tits down. Well, you’ll learn all about it when you get there! I might not be able to afford food until springtime, right enough. Where’s Paul?’

‘Babysitter fell through. I’m here, though – got the guitar, and I’ll do the song solo if you want. Or perhaps you could get up and join me?’

‘Ha! You shouldn’t have asked me in advance. I’ll have time to think of an excuse now.’

A beat, in which neither of them believed her.

‘Oh, let me think about it. Right, you need a drink. And – Ruth? Ruth? Shiv, this is my dear, dear friend Ruth, who, bless her wee button boots, has agreed to stage-manage the whole shebang for me tonight. Ruth, Shiv is – well, she’s Shiv – and performing, obviously – could you grab her something on the bar tab?’

Ruth was a sturdy, capable-looking woman, make-up already mostly sweated off a round red-cheeked face. She seemed quite distracted, and Siobhan found it a little awkward that a ‘dear, dear friend’ was pulling waitress duty. Sensing Clio’s attention wandering, she created her exit.

‘I will absolutely get my own drink. See you shortly. Ruth, do you need me to soundcheck, or isn’t that possible?’

Clio’s golden back turned and she embraced the next newcomer, screamed their name.

The businesslike Ruth was saying something quietly about adjusting the levels live.

‘It’s – well, we did organize a soundcheck for everyone who’s playing at five p.m. Before everything started. I think you got the email?’

Siobhan felt the accusation and ground against it. She was doing this for free, for fuck’s sake, as a favour.

‘Yeah – I couldn’t do that. School run, kids need their dinner. You know.’

Ruth nodded. Maybe she didn’t know.

‘It’ll be fine to fiddle with the levels when I’m up there. It’s just a birthday party! We’re not playing the Albert Hall.’ Ruth gave a small terse nod. ‘Actually, I think I would like that drink, if OK? I’ll take a glass of red just now. Big one. No, wait, make it a double G&T. Not the house – anything boutique, small distillery, that sort of thing. With slimline. Lovely. Ta.’