Charlie had a nasty feeling she was about to find out.

‘A vibrator. I heard her laughing about it, telling Robbie Meakin and Jack Zlosnik that Simon probably wouldn’t know what it was. “He’ll run a mile when he finds out,” she said.’

‘Don’t tell me any more.’ Charlie jumped down from the wall and started to walk towards the bridge. She lit a fresh cigarette. Dying wasn’t an altogether unappealing prospect, unobserved as she would be by her own non-existent children.

Kate followed her. ‘Then she said, “Oh, well—at least Charlie’ll be able to get her rocks off after Simon’s scarpered in terror.” ’

‘She’s a cockroach.’

‘More of a slug, I’d say,’ Kate amended. ‘She’s all squish and no crunch. And she’s going to have a field day if you walk out of your own engagement party and don’t come back. Do you want her to think you’re ashamed of your relationship with Simon?’

‘I’m not.’ Charlie stopped. ‘I don’t care what anyone thinks.’ Kate grabbed her arms, wrinkling her nose as cigarette smoke wafted in her face. ‘You love him more than most people love the people they’re married to. You’d die for him without a second thought.’

‘Would I?’

‘Take it from me.’

Charlie nodded, in spite of feeling as if she ought to argue. Why should she take it from Kate? Was it possible to measure the levels of love present in one’s guests while serving up baked Alaska?

Kate released her grip. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘unless all the gossip I keep hearing is completely off the mark—and gossip rarely is, in my experience—then you and Simon have got some kind of problem with your sex life.’ Before Charlie could tell her to mind her own business, she went on, ‘I don’t know what it is and I’m not asking to be told. But I do know one thing: there’s more to love, and to life, than sex. Now, the only way to put a stop to what people are saying in there is to go back and interrupt every conversation. Address your guests. Don’t leave them to speak to each other—they can’t be trusted. Stand on a chair—you’ve got flat heels on—and give a speech.’

Charlie was surprised to hear herself laugh. You’ve got flat heels on—had Kate really said that?

‘Char, wait for me!’ The voice came from the knot of trees by the side of the bridge.

Charlie closed her eyes. How much had Olivia overheard? ‘My sister,’ she said, in answer to Kate’s raised eyebrows.

‘I’ll see you inside in no more than three minutes,’ said Kate.

‘Who was that?’ Olivia asked.

‘Sam Kombothekra’s wife. You’re late.’

‘It’s not a concert,’ said Olivia. It was a saying she’d picked up from her and Charlie’s father. Howard Zailer said it about all the things he didn’t care if he was late for. He never said it about golf, which he played at least five days a week. Howard’s passion for golf had been forced on his wife, though they both pretended Linda’s sudden enthusiasm for the game had been arrived at independently, by a huge stroke of luck.