He was doing his hair. She passed him to go into the bathroom.

‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘What did he say about today? I don’t know what he told you,’ he said.

She turned. ‘What?’

He looked at her, wrong-footed. She didn’t know what he was talking about. She shouldn’t have drunk the brandy.

‘The party?’ she said.

‘What?’ He turned away quickly. ‘Can you be quick? It’s really late.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘I’ll see you down there.’

He went down the three flights of stairs, towards the party, down and down again, hurrying, embarrassed how relieved he was Griff hadn’t told her. Pussy-whipped. He needed not to be so weak. He didn’t have to live his life as a nothing. He had the right to change, if he wanted to. He rounded the top of the stairs and saw below him the big hall, and, beneath that, through the glass balustrade, the lower-ground floor. Guests were scattered in small groups in the various spaces of the house. He had the sense of coming upon a cavern under a mountain, and at the end of it was the garden, like another, deeper, cave, with lights like jewels illuminating it, and the people in it. More people were coming into the hall to go down. Waiters crossed the floor. The very long hanging lights, like stalactites, were amber. Even they looked different, glowing with welcome, now.

‘Excuse me,’ he said, and a girl with a tray of cocktails stopped.

‘Good evening, sir,’ she said.

‘Any chance of a beer?’ He thought how he must look; a guest, but still an ordinary person, just like her.

‘Of course. I’ll come and find you,’ she said.

‘Thanks.’

The guests had taken Liv’s direction, and worn bright colours. Only a few wore black. There was a lively, edgy energy to the sound of their voices, and the laughter. Liv was in white linen. Surrounded by people, she looked plain to the point of sacrificial, except for a huge pair of sunglasses, which gave an impression of almost brutish blindness. Her apricot-coloured hair was loose. With a woman holding her arm, and a man on the other side, patting her shoulder, she went out into the garden, as the candles on the tables were lit and the band set up. Blessica came hurrying past, with a tray of clean glasses, and paused.

‘Mr Dan!’ she said. ‘Hello!’

He wondered if it was phonier to greet staff and ask how they were the whole time, or not to pretend. Bea did, but she was the same to everyone. It was like she was missing a status-awareness gene.

‘Hey,’ he said, and turned away.