‘My neighbour went on X Factor once,’ Rebekah said loudly. ‘Got to judges’ houses.’

But there was no way I was singing solo so, collectively, we moved through some classic Stones and Bob Dylan.

‘Your voice is lovely.’ Ish and Lena beamed at me as we warbled our way to the end of ‘Lay Lady Lay’, employing a variety of lyrics.

‘Yes, it really is.’ Marcus’s gaze was so intense, my face began to feel hot.

‘Hey, perhaps we should ask people to sing at the street party? Or a…’ Lena looked excited. ‘I know – a talent show! Like our own little X Factor? We could offer an intro to… what’s that dude’s name, Ish, who you treated?’

‘Simon Cowell?’ Marcus said.

‘No, silly.’ Lena giggled. ‘Some A and R guy. Ruby, you could be a judge.’

‘I need to put Beau to bed.’ Nella stood up abruptly and brushed down her J Brand jeans. ‘Pee break, OK – then charades?’

Melissa winked at me.

‘All this campfire stuff’s taking me back to my lost youth.’ Ish stretched lavishly. ‘I could murder a joint!’

‘Oh honestly, Ish!’ Lena poked his side. ‘You’re a grown-up and a qualified doctor. Plus there’s kids around.’

‘Not a practicing one though, I thought.’ Nella was tart. ‘Or am I wrong?’

‘What?’ Lena frowned.

‘Not a practicing doctor anymore. Ishaan.’

‘Where is Beau?’ Marcus glanced around.

‘Not very grown-up, and not anymore a doctor, Nella, no.’ Ish rolled his neck. ‘I gave it up for Lent.’

‘I gave up weed at uni,’ Nella said crisply.

I wasn’t sure if we were meant to be impressed or not.

‘Why did you stop doctoring?’ I asked Ish shyly.

‘Beau?’ Marcus stood and called. ‘Where are you, mate?’

‘Oh, just fancied a change.’ Lena was airy. ‘Didn’t you, darl? Like you sending Willow to the state school, Nella. A change is as good as a rest, eh?’

‘He’s probably tucked himself up in his sleeping bag.’ Nella ignored Lena. ‘Beau. All this fresh air is a blast – literally!’

‘I’ll check.’ Rebekah wobbled to her feet. ‘I’ve got to fetch the you know what anyway.’

Marcus sat back down and strummed a banal Coldplay tune I loathed.

‘One more for luck, yeah?’ He grinned at me. ‘Then I’m going to get my new camera out and record this evening!’

Craving bed myself now – and not just a groundsheet and an ancient military sleeping bag from Jonny’s brief army stint – I tidied up my paltry offerings, doughy sausage rolls untouched amongst the sea of loftier fare, sundried tomatoes, mint tabouleh, quinoa with pomegranate seeds.

‘You know,’ Lena murmured, passing me some kitchen roll, ‘there’s definitely something dodgy about Willow changing school. I’m guessing she got kicked out of St Bede’s, though I can’t find anything online – except teen girls in their knickers. Strewth! We haven’t come far, have we?’

‘Oh?’ I was surprised. ‘Was she thrown out?’

‘What do you reckon, darl?’ She grimaced at me. ‘I’m normally good at snuffling out a story, but this has been carefully hushed up.’