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.