I reinsert each letter into its envelope and slide them to my right. I move on to the folder. Two hundred names. Two hundred. All women. I don’t know a single one of them. I start with the names that belong to a different generation: Magdas, Debras, Marjories. I go through the list, axing all the old ladies. I’m quite enjoying it. I take a gulp from my writer’s glass – I’ve had to crack open a bottle of Neil’s organic wine – and hold my pen like a sword. I jot down some numbers on an envelope, tally marks, like in prison movies, for all the people in Alanna’s life I absolutely won’t be able to avoid meeting in person. The hearts and ticks add up to twenty-eight names. I go back to the beginning of the list. I take out the Francescas and Elizabeths and Bellas. I don’t trust those names. On my third glass, I’m getting into a weird, jittery mood, not unlike excitement. I keep talking to myself in a voice that isn’t my usual voice. Frankly, if this is going to be the coolest party, I can’t go easy on the basic bitches. They’re just going to kill the vibe. We don’t want none of that. There is a Francesca Jammy Rodgers and I’m undecided about her for a while. I recognize the name but I can’t place her. Her fictitious second name tickles me. ‘Jammy.’ Jammy like lucky? Was she one of those annoying girls who always won at everything? Well, not this time: she’s a Francesca and my rules are strict. I mull it over for a while, chewing on the cap of my pen. There is a chubby yellow highlighter heart next to her name. Alanna would probably hate me if I forgot to invite one of her best friends. I guess I will make an exception and add her name to my list. I really don’t mind doing this. Then the list is down to 120 so I allow myself a few minutes of me-time. It is the end of a long day, after all. I finish my third glass and dot on some eye cream.

I cross off a few more names: if I don’t feel a strong connection or if I simply don’t trust the way it sounds when said aloud. All the Eleanors and the Jessicas are gone. It is unlikely that, as maid of honour, I will be expected to make a speech or address all of the guests by their names individually, but I am taking no risks.