‘Interior designer. Freelance now, although I used to work for Blue Door.’
Sophie pops up at Pete’s elbow, looking annoyed.
‘There you are,’ she says to Pete. ‘Louise, hi, you look great.’ She kisses me automatically on both cheeks. ‘Isn’t this fab? Oh my God, look, there’s Emma Frost, she’s huge! And Graham Scott has got the most god-awful beard. And did you see Mr Jenkins on the door? I swear he tried to touch me up when he helped me put my badge on, didn’t he, Pete?’
Pete shrugs.
‘Do you remember all those stories about him, Louise? Natasha Griffiths, wasn’t it? Ooh, I wonder if she’s here. Pete, can you get us some drinks? More wine, Louise?’
As Pete ambles off to the bar, Sophie turns to me.
‘Have you seen Sam yet?’ she asks with ill-concealed curiosity.
‘Not yet. I see him all the time though. We have a child together, remember?’ Emboldened by the glass of wine I’ve already knocked back, I shoot back. ‘Why have you brought someone you hardly know with you?’
Sophie’s face falls. ‘Did he tell you?’
‘Yes, but only because I asked him how long you’d been together.’
Sophie looks embarrassed, and I can’t believe I might have found the chink in her armour.
‘I’d better tell him not to mention it to anyone else. You won’t say anything, Louise, will you? I couldn’t face coming here alone when I knew everyone else would be parading their husbands and pictures of their cherubic little children.’ She could sound bitter, but in fact the overwhelming impression I get is sadness.
‘Hey, I’m here on my own. I think lots of people are.’ I put out a hand to touch her arm, pierced by an awareness of our shared history. It’s painfully clear to me now that she used me at school to bolster her ego, but that’s given me an unexpected insight into the insecurity that must have prompted her behaviour.
‘Yes, but that’s you, isn’t it?’ She shakes off my hand. ‘It doesn’t matter so much, no one’s expecting anything from you.’ Just like that the vulnerability is gone and she’s back to slapping me in the face. ‘God, where is Pete with that wine?’ she huffs. ‘Back in a sec.’ She strides off towards the bar.
I’m pretty desperate for another drink myself, and I’m not the only one. You can tell that everyone in the hall is drinking fast in that nervous way you do when you know that the evening can’t get started until everyone is at least mildly drunk. When I feel a tap on my shoulder, I assume it’s Pete or Sophie with my drink, so I turn eagerly, but when I see who it is my heart sinks.
‘Hi Louise,’ Sam says with a wary smile. After our last encounter he’s probably expecting trouble – weeping and wailing maybe, or at the very least sarcasm and barbed remarks.
I smile and plant a kiss on his cheek. ‘Hi. How’s things?’
‘Good, I’m good,’ he says, looking relieved. ‘Where’s Henry?’ He looks around as if expecting to see him helping himself to the crisps laid out at the side of the hall.
‘At Polly’s. He’s fine, he loves it there.’ Already I’m bristling, on the defensive.
‘I know, I know. No need to be… anyway.’ He seems to remember where we are. ‘You remember Matt, Matt Lewis?’
He gestures to the man next to him. I haven’t seen him since our wedding thirteen years ago. He’s put on weight and his hair is greying, but he’s still recognisably Matt.
‘Of course! Great to see you.’
I’m leaning in for a polite hello-kiss with Matt when there’s a flurry behind me and Sophie descends on us, followed by Pete holding the drinks.
‘Oh my God! You guys!’
She flings herself first into Matt’s arms with a casual, ‘Hey, gorgeous’, and I remember that they are not virtual strangers like the rest of us. They still see each other. It was Matt who told Sophie about me and Sam. Next it’s Sam’s turn, and she throws her arms around his neck, giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek.
‘Wow, you look great, Soph,’ says Sam.
‘Still got it!’ She winks and nudges him with a flirtatious hip.
Pete hands me my wine and I take a gulp. It’s sour and not even remotely chilled, but I plough on nonetheless. I’m clearly going to need it.
‘So, what’s the goss?’ Sophie says. ‘Who have you seen? My God, have you seen Graham Scott’s beard?’
Matt exchanges a glance with me, raising his eyebrows very slightly and smiling, but I notice that his eyes are drawn straight back to her.
‘No goss yet, Sophie. Give us time, we’ve only just got here.’ Sam smiles. ‘Anyway, you were always the one with all the inside info.’
‘Oh yes, I know all and see all.’ She laughs, wagging a finger. ‘Don’t try to keep anything from me!’
Pete is rummaging in his top pocket and pulls out a pack of Marlboro Lights. He sees me eyeing them and holds them out.
‘Want one?’
‘Oh, go on then,’ I say with a smile.
‘I thought you’d given up,’ Sam says in surprise.
I want to tell him that there’s a lot he doesn’t know about me. That what he did to me has changed me, that I’m a different person now, but of course I don’t. I simply shrug and follow Pete outside. As my eyes adjust to the dark, they are drawn to the corners, the shadows: the places where somebody could be hiding, watching. We perch on a low wall, shivering and wondering whether to go in and get our coats. The wind keeps blowing the matches out and it takes a few goes to get the cigarettes lit. I breathe out a plume of smoke and for the first time all evening I feel my body relax slightly, relishing the cold after the heat and barely suppressed hysteria inside the hall.
‘So,’ I say, ‘did you grow up somewhere like this? A small town in nowheresville?’
‘No,’ he says. ‘I’m London born and bred. Places like this give me the heebie-jeebies.’
‘Have you ever been to a school reunion? Your own, I mean, rather than some random woman’s you met on the internet.’
‘God, no. Can’t think of anything worse.’
‘Oh, OK,’ I say, stung.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that other people shouldn’t go to theirs, but it’s not for me, that’s all. I didn’t have the greatest time at school. Bit of a loner, I suppose.’
‘It’s OK,’ I say, thawing. ‘It is kind of a weird thing to do. I mean if it wasn’t for social media, nobody would know anything about the people they went to school with. We’d all just be getting on with our lives. I’ve actually heard of cases where people have got back in touch with their childhood sweethearts on Facebook and ended their marriages, gone back to their first loves.’