‘Six months! I told you Simon and I were engaged three fucking seconds after I knew myself! Since when you’ve been prancing around sanctimoniously, exuding disapproval, loudly dooming us to failure at every opportunity . . .’

‘Prance? I don’t prance.’

‘All I’m doing’s trying to be happy for a change. You keep saying you’ve said your piece and from now on you’ll keep your mouth shut, but it never works, does it? You can’t restrain yourself from pointing out that Simon’s weird and frigid and socially inept, and he’s never said he loves me . . .’ Charlie had to pause as a tide of rage swept through her, pushing all coherent thought aside.

In its wake, she found her voice again. ‘Socially inept,’ she repeated quietly. ‘And all the time, you’re bedding Dominic Lund? Coward—that’s another word that begins with “c”. Fucking hypocrite—that begins with “f”. You sneak around in secret to protect yourself, at the same time as showering me with condemnation. All those times you’ve laid into Simon . . .’

‘I’ve got nothing against Simon! I like him. All right, I think you’re mad to—’

‘And I think you’re mad. Insane. Off your trolley!’

‘Dominic’s got a brilliant mind. He’s a brilliant—’

‘Please, call him Dommie if that’s your special name for him. Don’t let me stop you.’ Charlie was starting to enjoy herself. Sometimes the only way to get rid of your own pain was to cause someone else’s. ‘Now you know how it feels when someone rips the man you love to shreds,’ she said.

‘I’m not sure if I love him. It’s a complicated . . .’

‘You know what else he said to me? That I never listen to anyone. This is a man who’s met me all of once.’

‘Perceptive of him,’ said Olivia.

‘He was quoting you!’

‘He’s got an amazing memory. He’s cleverer than Simon.’

‘Oh, grow up!’

‘I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant . . . you of all people should understand the appeal of a clever man.’

The part of Charlie that was capable of feeling normal human emotions had shut down. At moments like this, she usually tried to make things worse because that was something she knew she could do and do well. ‘Let’s make a pact, okay? You don’t come to my wedding and I won’t come to yours. As for Mum and Dad, they can choose. One or the other, whichever of us they think has made the least shit choice of partner. They’ll pick you, of course, because you put in the hours pandering to them and I don’t. Come to think of it, I can’t see Dad missing a day’s golf to come to either of our weddings.’