Judith took too big a gulp of her drink, the bubbles rushing up her nose in protest. She fought the urge to sneeze.

‘Listen,’ said Lana, lowering her voice. ‘About that email …’

‘It’s fine,’ said Judith. ‘You explained you were drunk at the time of writing.’

Sometimes, try as she might, Judith couldn’t avoid the sneering tone in her voice.

‘Yes, I was. You should try it sometime. Loosen you up a bit, y’know?’

Before she had a chance to respond, Jack and Dominic returned.

‘So has Mum told you about the baby?’

Judith glared at her son. The thought of sharing any private family information with Lana was a total no-no.

‘I thought we were keeping it quiet,’ she said, but it was pointless. Lana had grabbed the morsel of news like a ravenous terrier.

‘What’s this?’ she asked, scooping up another champagne from a passing waitress.

‘We’re having a baby,’ said Dominic, smiling at his husband. ‘With a surrogate. She’s four months pregnant now, so we reckon it’s safe to tell people.’

‘Wow! That’s amazing!’ said Lana, tears in her eyes. ‘Congratulations, Daddies!’ She hugged Jack and Dominic in turn, who both thanked her proudly. And then she turned to Judith, beaming. ‘And to you, Grandmama.’

‘I think everyone’s heading for their seats,’ Judith replied, pointedly ignoring Lana’s good wishes. Mean-spirited maybe. But this joyful news wasn’t Lana’s to feast upon. Judith pretended not to notice the look of hurt on the face of her ex-friend. ‘Come on,’ she said to her son. ‘Nice talking to you, Lana.’ And she moved away, in the hope of avoiding any further conversation.

‘Judith,’ said Lana quietly, catching her by the arm whilst Jack and Dominic walked on ahead, ‘there’s really no need for you to be so bloody rude. You never used to be this much of a bitch. Presumably it’s the menopause.’

Judith stared back. ‘Oh give it a rest, Lana,’ she said. ‘You’re just drunk. Again.’

‘Yes, but tomorrow I’ll be sober and you’ll still be a bitch!’ replied Lana. And off she floated to find her place at the table.

Judith felt a lump in her throat and fought off the annoying and unexpected desire to cry.

48

Solomon

‘And so my mother says, How are you, Mr Thomas? and Mr Thomas says, Not great, this morning I got my cat put down, to which my mother flings her arms around him and says, CONGRATULATIONS! and Mr Thomas looks at her and says, Why are you congratulating me on getting my cat put down? And my mother says, Oh, I thought you said you got your Cap and Gown!’

The guests laughed and Sol continued, ‘Not that my mother is obsessed with academic qualifications or anything … I mean, I’m all for power to the pensioner, but Mr Thomas is eighty-three!’

He looked around the room at the laughing faces – he’d nailed it. Everyone was having such a good time, this was such a good party.