‘Look, I’d best do the rounds, you know – mingle a bit seeing as all these people are apparently here for me.’ If Brian wasn’t coming to save the day, then Louisa had to excuse herself. ‘Thanks for coming. It was … well, good to see you,’ she managed. On trembling legs, Louisa got up and walked across to the nearest table, a fake smile in place to meet and greet her non-friends.

‘You’re doing great,’ Tiff said as she handed Louisa a bottle.

‘Bloody hell, Tiff – what’s this now? Lager? I’ve had far too much already.’

‘Nonsense. We used to put away loads more than this.’

‘But I haven’t—’

‘You haven’t got to worry about Noah,’ she cut in, ‘and I’m reliably informed you’ve expressed enough milk to feed all the babies in Devon. Let your hair down, woman!’

Louisa conceded. She had no strength to argue and couldn’t be bothered to correct Tiff’s memory of them drinking loads. It was always Tiff, not Louisa, who had got drunk. But if having more drink now helped get her through the rest of the party and then sleep solidly for eight hours, she’d take it.

An hour passed with Louisa managing to mingle with a few people, passing the time with basic-level chat, mainly consisting of telling stories about the exploits of their respective children. She’d lost count of how many drinks she’d consumed but she guessed it’d been too many judging by her blurring vision and the reduction in her ability to balance – even while sitting. Her swaying body was beginning to make her feel motion sick.

‘I’ll be back in a bit.’ Her mouth had begun to water as a wave of sickness rocked her. Louisa made her excuses and left the table.

The grass felt tickly and cool under her feet as she walked.

Where was she?

And where were her shoes?

Her handbag was over her shoulder, though. Good, she hadn’t lost that.

She stopped walking and pulled at it, trying to find the zip. Her fingers finally found the little metal pull. She reached inside. The bag dropped to the ground. Louisa’s eyes couldn’t focus well enough, her right hand swooping several times but failing to pick it up. She’d get it in a minute. She had the packet, at least.

A voice came from behind her.

‘Can I blag one of them off you?’

Louisa turned unsteadily to face the person who’d asked but she was still staring down at the cigarettes as she blinked several times in a vain attempt to clear her vision. She shook the packet, not trusting her eyes. Damn. Only one. She thought she’d only smoked five. She didn’t want to give her last one to a stranger.