‘Thank you to Guy, my best mate since our first year at Trinity.’ Josh had made sure he made it to Cambridge. His ruddy-faced rowing buddy, Guy, was one of his many souvenirs. ‘Do you promise not to teach her how to down pints in a moving punt?’

There was predictable laughter as Guy took a self-deprecating bow. ‘Thank you to Melissa, who shared a dormitory with Chloe and definitely knows her wickedest secrets!’ I looked towards the humourless Amazonian who’d made little to no effort at all to be friendly when we’d crowded around the font. ‘And finally, to my little sister.’ Josh turned his body towards me and paused for dramatic effect. ‘What is there to say about Rachel? Please don’t teach my baby to sink pints on a punt or – more your style – get shit-faced on cocktails and go home with a lechy waiter.’ The room erupted with guffaws. ‘Only joking, sis, we love you. We know you’re a reformed character.’

I gave a weak smile as Guy turned to give me an ironic grin. He had no idea.

‘Nancy’s lucky to have this motley crew to see her through what we hope will be a charmed life. Will you charge your glasses and drink to – the godparents!’

There was a raindrop of champagne left at the bottom of my glass. If I wanted more – and I did – this was my moment. I slipped away from my parents, holding my flute out to a waitress among a throng of guests, so they wouldn’t be able to see the alcohol cascading into it.

‘So, we look like a couple of prize plonkers.’ It was Guy, pinker than ever, holding his glass aloft to chink against mine. He looked like he’d been cut out of the Millennium party pages at the back of Tatler and glued into a scrapbook, frozen in time by Pritt-Stick. I clinked my glass with his, grateful for an excuse to take a long gulp. ‘I haven’t seen you for donkey’s years, Rachel.’

‘I think the last time I saw you, you were wearing some particularly stylish red Speedos by the pool in Marbella,’ I said, the champagne emboldening me.

‘Budgie smugglers?’ I took a quick look at his bare left hand. I’d been too distracted by Esther’s presence in the crowd when we’d been stood at the font – besides, he was Josh’s geeky housemate from freshers’ week the last time I’d seen him. The truth was, Guy’s puppyish freshness worked in his favour now. Josh’s other friends seemed cynical and tired, whereas Guy bubbled with fun. Could my godfather fantasy be coming true? Had Josh engineered this – a rare good deed in our flammable relationship?

‘Something like that,’ I said.