“Yeah. Of course. You’ll have to tell us all about America over dinner. I’m fascinated to know what it’s like to live there.” The buzzer went. “Hang on, I’ll get it.” Ben dashed out to let the other guests in. Jessica had already drained her wine.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just...it’s been so long since I’ve been to anything like this. Especially on my own. I was only ever Brendan’s wife, you know?”

I put my glass down and gave her a hug. “Just be yourself and it will be great.”

As guests poured through the door, clutching wine and flowers, hugs and introductions, the Jessica I remember reappeared. She shook hands with everyone, smiling, bowling them over with her beauty. “Hello, lovely to meet you, I’m Jessica. How do you know these guys? What do you do? Psychology? That’s so cool.” When Heather and Katie let themselves in with their spare key, Jessica stiffened for a second, then went over to say hello.

“Hi there, do you remember? We met in your first year of university?”

Heather glanced over at me and raised an eyebrow. “Of course. How could I forget?”

“Thanks for that,” I muttered as I filled her wineglass.

“Oh come on. It was all years ago.”

I couldn’t look after Jessica properly, as I was too busy performing the perfect host. I flitted from wineglass to wineglass, making sure everyone was topped up, popping my head around the kitchen door to check Ben was coping with the mammoth task of arranging charcuterie onto a plate. I’d met Douglas and Sophia before, but not his other colleagues. I managed to extricate from Joanie that she’d done a year abroad in America, and pulled Jessica over and said, “Oh that’s funny, Jessica used to live there,” and let her take over.

“I still miss In-N-Out Burger every day,” Jessica said, finishing her second glass.

Joanie nodded. “Oh, yes, I agree. Their animal-style fries were like my religion over there. Nothing here compares. So, when did you and your husband move back? Is he here tonight?”

Jessica shook her head. “Ex-husband,” she said, not dropping her smile. “But I moved back a few months ago.”

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry.”

Maybe I was imagining it, but the second Jessica said the word ex-husband, Joanie stood slightly in front of Frederick, blocking him from Jessica’s view.

Ben appeared in the kitchen doorway, wilting with a sheen of sweat and brandishing two giant sharing plates. “Ta-da!” he said, as I ushered everyone to sit down. “Starters!” He squeezed my sides through the thin fabric of my dress. Everyone dug into the olives and breads and hams, helping themselves, passing plates, draining their wine. We’d deliberated for ages about who would work well as a group, and it seemed to be paying off.