"TV? Marvellous! Bloody marvellous! Are you in front of the camera?"
"Only occasionally," I said in the sort of modest tone that suggested I was practically Cilla Black but didn't want anyone to know.
"Ohl A celebrity, eh? And" - he leaned forward in a concerned manner - "are you getting the rest of your life sorted out?"
Unfortunately at that moment Sharon happened to be passing. She stared at Cosmo, looking like Clint Eastwood when he thinks somebody is trying to double-cross him.
"What kind of question is that?" she growled.
"What?" said Cosmo, looking round at her, startled.
"'Are you getting the rest of your life sorted out?'" What do you mean by that exactly?"
"Well, ah, you know ... when is she going to get ... you know.. ."
"Married? So basically just because her life isn't exactly like yours you think it isn't sorted out, do you? And are you getting the rest of your life sorted out, Cosmo? How are things going with Woney?"
"Well I ... well," huffed Cosmo, going bright red in the face.
"Oh, I am sorry. We've obviously hit a sore spot. Come on, Bridget, before I put my big foot in it again!"
"Shazzerl" I said, when we were at a safe distance.
"Oh, come on," she said. "Enough, already. They just can't go around randomly patronizing people and insulting their lifestyles. Cosmo probably wishes Woney would lose four stone and stop doing that shrieking laugh all day but we don't just assume that the minute we've met him, and decide it's our business to rub it in, do we?" An evil gleam came into her eye. "Or maybe we
should," she said, grabbing hold of my arm and changing direction back towards Cosmo, only to be confronted by Mark and Rebecca and Constance again. Oh Christ.
"Who do you think is older, me or Mark?" Rebecca was saying.
"Mark," said Constance sulkily, looking from side to side as if planning to bolt.
"Who do you think is older, me or Mummy?" Rebecca went on playfully.
"Mummy," said Constance disloyally, at which Rebecca gave a tinkly little laugh.
"Who do you think is older, me or Bridget?" said Rebecca, giving me a wink.
Constance looked up at me doubtfully while Rebecca beamed at her. I nodded quickly at Rebecca.
"You," said Constance.
Mark Darcy let out a burst of laughter.
"Shall we play fairies?" Rebecca trilled, changing tack, trying to take Constance by the hand. "Do you live in a fairy castle? Is Harry a fairy too? Where are your fairywairy friends?"
"Bridget," said Constance, looking at me levelly, "I think you'd better tell this lady I'm not really a fairy."
Later on, as I was recounting this to Shaz, she said darkly, "Oh God. Look who's here."
Across the garden was Jude, radiant in turquoise, chatting to Magda but without Vile Richard.
"The girls are here!" said Magda gaily. "Look! Over there!"
Shaz and I stared down studiously into our glasses as if we hadn't noticed. When we looked up, Rebecca was bearing down on Jude and Magda mwah-mwahing like a social-climbing literary wife who's just spotted Martin Amis talking to Gore Vidal.
"Oh Jude, I'm so happy for you, it's wonderful!" she gushed.
"I don't know what that woman's on but I want some of it," muttered Sharon.