‘Play with balloon. Play with balloon now,’ as she kept talking to Amy’s back.
‘ . . . honestly he naps for ages, you won’t notice, oh and Ems and Polly can’t make it. And maybe Char because she was meant to be getting a lift from Polly.’
Amy’s face had turned thunderous as she looked across at me.
‘Hey.’ I gave her a sympathetic smile and halfhearted wave.
‘Sorry, why can’t they come?’ Amy said, turning to her sister.
Natalie ticked the reasons off her list. ‘Ems: suspected chicken pox, her child not her; Polly got her dates confused and is meant to be at her boyfriend’s family get-together in Swansea, and Char, well, Char can’t drive and is worried about public transport.’
‘Right,’ Amy said, rubbing her eyes.
‘Drink?’ I sing-songed, realising this hen do was heading downhill and fast.
‘What about public transport?’
‘Balloon now.’
‘No . . . I . . . not sure, is she frightened of buses or something? Maybe, darling, it’s not a balloon for playing really . . . ’
‘Mojito?’ I lurched over to the counter.
‘Oh,’ Natalie said, ‘that jug is the non-alcoholic one actually. We’ve got a couple of pregnant people coming, and Katy is still breast-feeding—’
The doorbell interrupted the rest of the sentence. Tom was now scaling the chair the penis was attached to and I was frantically pouring tequila into a shot glass.
‘Come on, Ames, let’s get this down you.’
Amy slouched over to me in the kitchen. ‘God, Lottie, is this going to be the worst?’
‘Of course not!’ I said, smile plastered on as two women with enormous bumps pushed into the room and Tom released the penis from its mooring so it floated up to the ceiling to rest on its side.
Minutes later more guests arrived and Amy looked a little cheered, helped along by three tequila shots. A couple of her colleagues from the school appeared: a brunette head of PE with the kind of toned upper arms I’d only ever seen on professional tennis players, and an earnest-looking head of Teaching and Learning pushing tortoiseshell glasses up her nose. Then university friends and school friends joined us and the room was suddenly full with people clutching glasses, introducing themselves, Tom weaving between their legs on a continuous hunt for his mother.
After an hour the clock hands seemed to be dragging. It was only four o’clock as we sat in a small circle, Tom’s episode of Peppa Pig filling the long gaps in conversation. I was sitting next to Amy’s sister-in-law who didn’t know anyone and was borderline obsessed with long-haired cats. After five minutes I’d had my fill.
The group was fading into intermittent coughs and silence. I was aware I should stop serving tequila for a little while as Amy’s right eye was already wandering.
‘This is a good episode actually,’ Natalie said, around the group. ‘It’s about Peppa’s fish being bored. They take her on the bus and . . . ’
Stony stares met her story and I found my bottom clenching as she continued. Amy looked bereft, shoulders slumped, both hands cupping her watered-down mojito, her hot pink satin Bride to Be sash lacklustre.
I clapped my hands together. ‘Sooooo, when is company arriving . . .’ I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
Natalie started shaking her head at me, making cutting motions on her neck. ‘I’m sorry, I know we planned . . . I just couldn’t have a S-T-R-I-P-P-E-R here, not with’ – she gestured towards Tom – ‘I’m sorry, Amy I cancelled him this morning. I made carrot batons and homemade hummus everyone!’ She thrust the plate out in front of her.
No one reached to get one. Amy didn’t even raise a smile.
‘How about we do the Mr and Mrs Quiz?’ I suggested in a hearty voice, eyes flicking nervously round the circle. I had already forgotten everyone’s names.
Natalie looked worriedly across at Tom. ‘We could, I mean, I don’t like to turn off the television once he’s settled in front of it, and we need it to attach the laptop to, but we could . . . ’
‘We could just play it on the laptop,’ I suggested brightly, determined to move this party along and desperate to see Amy’s face light up.
I fussed over the keys of the laptop, turning up the volume on the small screen to maximum. The whole circle of women gathered around the small coffee table to watch. Transpires maximum really wasn’t very loud, Peppa’s voice sailing above it all, and we spent twenty minutes straining to make out Will’s