Rosie approached, her face alight with curiosity. A stalwart of our gang, she’d grown very large and had recently retired from the Department of Work and Pensions.

‘So you’re Pru’s new young man,’ she said, shaking Calvin’s hand. ‘She’s been keeping you very quiet and I can see why.’ She gave him a roguish smile and swung round to me. ‘After all you’ve been through, sweetheart, it’s a tonic to see you so happy. You look ten years younger and I love the hair. Where did you meet, or shouldn’t I ask?’

‘In a dentist’s waiting room.’

‘No way!’

‘In Potter’s Bar.’

Rosie sighed. ‘Such a shame it takes a death to bring us all together.’ She turned to Calvin. ‘You should have seen us, er…?’

‘Calvin.’

‘… Calvin, back in the day. Oh, the dinner parties! Rough red wine—Hirondelle, do you remember, Pru? Absolutely disgusting, but did we care?’

‘Mackerel pâté—’

‘Iceberg lettuce—’

‘Boeuf bourguignon—’

‘Duchess potatoes—’

‘Black Forest gâteau!’

‘Profiteroles!’

‘Masses of dope.’

‘Children asleep all over the place; sometimes we’d take the wrong one home. Remember, Pru?’

We drained our glasses of Champagne. Calvin was drinking elderflower cordial. I caught him looking at his watch again.

Rosie turned to him. ‘Alex fancied Pru like mad, God rest his soul. She was absolutely stunning in those days. Greg got pretty arsey, didn’t he, Pru? But they never came to blows, like Thingy and Thingy in Women in Love. On the floor, remember? In front of the fire? That wasn’t Greg’s style. He was more of an ideas man. Bit passive-­aggressive, in fact, wasn’t he, Pru?’ She paused. ‘And a very slow eater. It took him an hour to eat an artichoke. No wonder we all got so pissed.’

‘Alan Bates and Oliver Reed,’ I said. ‘They weren’t fighting, they were wrestling in a homo-erotic way.’

‘Starkers,’ she said. ‘My God, it was sexy. You can still see it on YouTube.’

Calvin wandered off to inspect the cold meats. He’d removed his jacket and carried it under his arm. There was a damp patch of sweat on the back of his shirt.

I got drunk very quickly. So did the rest of our gang. By early evening most of the other guests had gone. It was still hot, though the shadows had lengthened across the lawn. The lilac branches bowed, heavy with blossoms; the scent made my head swim. Round our legs the little angels ran, their net skirts grubby and their wings askew. ‘Shall we take one of them home, like the old days?’ said Rosie, who periodically loomed into view.