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better have the salmon and salad. I watch enviously as skinny Blonde Blancmange accepts only the salad. Show off.
        ‘You and Jamie conspiring against me, that’s what it is.’
        ‘Conspiring?’
    Christ, I’m turning into a parrot.
        ‘Why do you keep repeating everything I say?’ he snaps.
        ‘Everything you say?’ I question.
    I find I am pointing to the turkey. This is so wrong. Redirect finger Libby, redirect. But it is too late. Four lovely, crispy roast potatoes are placed in front of me and then covered with lovely fragrant gravy. Oh, heaven.
        ‘That looks good,’ comments Bryant with a smile that both Toby and I return with icy stares. Blancmange looks at my plate in distaste, while Issy points greedily at it and requests the same.
        ‘I couldn’t possibly eat a dead bird,’ says Blancmange pompously.
    I stab the turkey viciously with my knife.
        ‘Just checking,’ I smile. ‘Yes, it’s definitely dead. I couldn’t possibly eat a live one.’
    Issy giggles and good Lord, is that a sly grin on Bryant’s face? He catches my eye, and I quickly turn away. He leans across Blancmange and her slim arm with its row of silver bracelets jangles around his neck. Why is it that I now feel fat, clumsy and ugly in my black shirty wots-it thing?
        ‘Why, it’s Alex Bryant, how wonderful,’ bellows a high-pitched voice followed by a highly fragrant, over made-up woman who is wearing what appears to be my mother’s living room curtains. She leans across and plonks a wet kiss on Alex Bryant’s cheek.
        ‘Lucy Parker-Smythe, thrilled to meet you,’ she says, wiping the lipstick stain from his cheek with her thumb.
        ‘Oh, may I join you,’ she squeals excitedly.
    Before any of us has the chance to object she has plonked her wobbly bum onto a chair and begins spouting a load of bollocks.
        ‘I mean, this situation in Cambodia is just dire isn’t it? Personally I think we should round up all those rebels and be done with it. Give the peasants more rice and everyone will be happy. Our WI is going to be doing something on it this month.’
    Oh well, that’s the Cambodian problem solved then. Maybe the WI after bringing world peace can help me with my weight problem.
        ‘I’m afraid it is a little more complicated than that. The rebels aren’t all bad actually. The politics are very confusing,’ says Alex Bryant with that irritating smile.
        ‘Well, that is certainly a matter of opinion,’ argues Toby. ‘I would say rounding up the rebels is not such a bad idea. They are clearly thugs.’
    Oh dear, not again.
        ‘Actually, it was quite clear from your article that you wrote it with the minimum of research. You haven’t been to Cambodia have you?’ replies Bryant, calmly.
        ‘These things are black and white if you ask me.’
    I roll my eyes, tuck into my roast potatoes and nod at Issy who is replenishing everyone’s glasses.
        ‘I wonder Alex,’ coos Lucy Parker-Smythe, leaning closer to him so that her breast wobbles very near to his nose. ‘If you could come and have a little chat with our ladies and advise them what to put in their shoe boxes.’
        ‘Nothing in Cambodia right now is black and white Toby,’ responds Alex Bryant, manoeuvring his nostrils from Lucy Parker Smyth’s nipple and depositing her into a chair in one motion.
        ‘Smooth,’ I remark to Issy.
        ‘Oh, he is that,’ she replies, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
        ‘I thought Toby’s piece had some interesting points,’ butts in Jamie, pouring gravy onto his turkey.
        ‘Thank you Jamie, but I really don’t need you to stand up for me,’ snaps Toby.
    Alex passes a dish across the table towards me.
        ‘Stuffing,’ he says flatly and the colour rises to my cheeks.
        ‘Ooh,’ Issy whispers into my ear and the burning spreads throughout my body. I lift my eyes to Alex Bryant to