‘Oh yes, of course I know who you are. I’ve known Molly since I was a little girl, she was at drama school with Mum and Dad, and then I played her daughter in a TV series,’ and Viola blushed suddenly, somehow thinking it sounded as if she was pointing out Molly’s age in comparison with his own. ‘Yes of course, I’ve seen you before,’ she said to Banjo shyly.

‘I expect you have,’ said Banjo. ‘I’ve been around for a while.’

‘Have a joint with us,’ said Chris.

‘Oh I’d love to,’ said Viola, recovering, smiling at them both, taking the cigarette they passed to her, ‘but my dad has pointed out that if I’m going to be a famous actress I have to keep circulating and circulating, round and round and round, I might not get so many useful people in one space ever again.’ She inhaled quickly and deeply then handed the joint back, laughed at herself, ran up the lawn.

The first long shadow of the autumn afternoon fell across the river.

*

People lay about on the grass now, some had fallen asleep even, and the machine with the Smarties had stopped dispensing. A television director was still wondering to Iona Spring if she’d be interested in playing a Strindberg heroine for the BBC early next year and as she stood up at last and stretched very seductively she said she’d think about it. The television director paled with excitement. Anthony’s agent talked in a serious huddle to two comedy writers. Ho and the two Chinese women collected plates, picked up the odd fork and pork bone off the lawn. Frances and Anthony were talking about Terence Blue and the reunion.

‘Dad can I borrow the car?’ said Benedict, flicking his hair.

‘What the hell for?’ Anthony held a large glass of whisky, glowered as he saw Molly’s young man coming up the lawn towards them, fell slightly against Frances, looked crossly at his son.

‘Darling, do let him drive me back to the Hilton, I’m absolutely exhausted.’ Iona Spring was at Anthony’s shoulder.

‘Absolutely not!’ said Anthony, turning quickly to her, outraged. ‘For God’s sake Iona, he’s seventeen.’

‘Drive me, darling, that’s all I said.’

‘What’s the matter,’ said Pauline, freshly made-up and smiling, ‘what is it Iona?’

‘She wants Benedict to drive her back into London, I said it’s out of the question.’