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he’d asked that of someone’s tipsy, bawdy wife and she’d said loudly, ‘Well, doctor, you once spent a lot of time staring up my fanny.’ More than one woman had said to him, ‘Oh, you’re the first person who held my child.’ And he would have a mental picture of her screaming, legs raised in the air. He felt a laugh rising. It was a funny life. He checked Mrs Hallwright again; she was staring down at the table, perhaps wanting to escape the hoary old bastard who was whispering in her ear. Simon felt an intensity of emotion, almost happiness, as if he’d broken through a membrane, and everything was fresh and new. He realised he’d had too much wine, and turned to his neighbour, trying to focus.
    Later, the lights went dimmer still, the band cranked up, and people began moving around the tables. Trish dragged Karen away, and for a while Simon was left by himself. He decided to drink no more, and went for extra coffee, and on the way back he raninto Trish and Karen.
    ‘Come and meet David,’ Trish said.
    They approached the table. There was a crowd around the Hallwrights, but Graeme was already there, and beckoned. David Hallwright was standing as Graeme surged forward and introduced them. Hallwright shook Karen’s hand and she gave a little jump of nerves and said, ‘Hi,’ in a squeaky voice, then turned to look at Trish, as if to confirm the magic of the moment.
    Simon felt resistance rising. Trish looked so proud and moist-eyed he wanted to slap her. It was his turn. He offered his hand to David Hallwright. The sharp grey eyes rested on him, and something registered in the keen face.
    Simon said, ‘Good to meet you,’ and wished Karen would stop twitching like a kid beside him. He stepped back, and Trish angled in, greeting Hallwright with a smoochy kiss.
    Hallwright turned slightly away. Roza Hallwright was sitting at the table behind, with the old shark still bending her ear. Simon stepped sideways and sat down next to her. She turned and he muttered, pulling at his tie, ‘Do you mind if I sit here for a minute.’
    She watched him tugging at his collar. ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘It’s very hot.’
    ‘The excitement of meeting the great man,’ she said. Her voice was low, humorous, wary. She touched her necklace. ‘Would you like some water?’
    She poured him a glass. Seeing he’d been usurped, the old man next to her got up with a groan and shambled off.
    He took the glass. ‘Thanks.’
    ‘Are you enjoying the dinner?’ she asked, looking around absently.
    ‘Yes. Lovely.’ It came out more sarcastic than he’d meant.
    She turned to him, paying attention. ‘I see.’
    ‘No, really, it’s very nice.’
    She smiled and he got the strange feeling again, something like freedom, happiness.
    He said, ‘Well, okay. I was just thinking I might actually vote Labour.’
    She laughed.
    ‘Only joking,’ he added.
    ‘Are you?’ She leaned forward, looking at him searchingly. ‘Do these occasions make you feel rebellious?’
    He was surprised. ‘Rebellious? Is it rebellion or … My mother was a member of the Labour Party. You know what she would have called all of us here tonight?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Hyenas.’
    She drew back, and he instantly regretted it; it was too harsh, too much. He had offended her.
    ‘I didn’t mean to … I’m one of the hyenas too,’ he added, floundering. ‘I was only joking about voting Labour.’
    She looked away. ‘I don’t really like politics.’
    ‘It’ll be hard to avoid after the election.’
    She smiled, still looking away. ‘You think he’s going to win.’
    ‘Everyone knows he’s going to win.’
    ‘I’m glad. It’s what he wants.’
    Simon laughed. ‘What he wants. You make it sound like a pair of new socks.’
    ‘Yes. I’m very simple aren’t I?’
    ‘No. I don’t think you’re simple. Just the opposite.’
    She glanced around at his tone. It was too interested.
    He said, ‘Is it possible we’ve met before?’
    Again she drew