I watched as she made another joke.
I watched as the flitting frittering hangers-on twittered
I poked at my food with my fork, chasing my peas round the plate.
I swirled my goblet of white wine, prime estate 1997, admiring my nail polish as I try to make a discrete whirlpool.
I realise that there is no lipstick stain on the crystal.
I hear a voice through the fog.
"What's wrong Rhiannon? Surely the illustrious company can't be boring you!"
I realise my elbow is on the table, my eyes trained on the goblet held at eye length.
I untip my head, shift my gaze and stare coolly at her.
"Oh hardly. This party is a crackup."
I smile my sweetest smile.