We start slowly with us guiding those not in the know on how to play and what their cards mean, and once everyone is ready there’s a shift in the air and a competitiveness builds, namely because Vicky, Mike and I stop being helpful and instead start focusing on the cards in our hands and how to get rid of them.

It’s tense with lots of dramatic intakes of breath when someone puts down a card that requires a big pick up – something Kevin seems to be getting the brunt of thanks to the novices beside him each gaining some beginner’s luck.

Very quickly I find myself with only one card left, and it’s a wild card plus four, meaning no matter what, I can put it down.

I try to keep the look of glee from my face until it’s my go.

‘I win!’ I say, placing my final card down on top of the pile.

‘You didn’t say UNO!’ remarks Vicky.

‘UNO!’ I repeat.

‘Not now, you’re meant to say it when you have one card left in your hand so we all know!’

‘I forgot,’ I shrug, looking around at the rest of the table who are either still looking down at the cards in their hands in order to play on, or at what’s happening between me and Vicky.

‘But that’s the rule.’

‘Well, I can’t turn back time,’ I laugh, suddenly remembering why Vicky always loved this game and I didn’t so much. She’s not the best loser. In fact, UNO is a tough game for anyone to lose, that’s why people find it addictive.

‘You can’t do that?’ smirks Scott from across the table, leading to him and Mike singing a line from a classic Cher song.

‘You cheated,’ declares Vicky, deciding not to let the matter go.

‘I did not!’

‘All right, all right!’ chimes in Mike, still laughing from his musical outburst. ‘Vicky, she would’ve won anyway with that card. And Zaza, try not to be such a naughty girl next time. Let’s carry on.’

They do so while I watch.

‘UNO!’ Vicky calls when it’s her turn.

I catch her eye, and she rolls both of hers to the ceiling.

Kevin, Chef Jonny, Pedro and Rafael excuse themselves after a couple more games – Chef Jonny won the second game and Mike won the third – leaving us alone with Scott.

‘Come on then, Scott, tell us more about you,’ I prod.

‘What about me?’

‘Where are you from?’ I ask.

‘I grew up in Cornwall.’

‘Nice,’ I note.

‘Love it there,’ nods Vicky.

‘And?’

He laughs. ‘What more do you want?’

‘Happy childhood?’

‘Are you wondering if I do this because I’m running away from something?’ he asks, raising his eyebrows.

‘Aren’t we all?’ Vicky chuckles, her response seemingly taking her by surprise.