"Now that you're all finally here, can we go to the table?" Walter said. "I want my dinner"

"But what about Hilary's birthday presents?" Jenna was carrying an elaborately wrapped polka-dotted box, with ribbons and stars hanging from it.

"After we've ordered," Walter said, lumbering toward the tables.

"Long time no see," Alex said pointedly to Matt.

Matt forced a bark of laughter. "You know how it is, work and all that."

"Still busy?"

"Great!" No way would Matt mention that two members of his team had been made redundant in the last month. Alex was his older brother and trying to impress him was as automatic as breathing.

"Even in the CEC?"

"What-Oh the Current Economic Climate? Yeah, we're doing okay." A big sale would be nice, but they were holding their own.

"I heard they let two of your people go."

Shit. How did Alex know? That was the thing about Ireland, everyone knew everything.

"Yeah, but the rest of us are fine." Paradoxically, the jobs of his remaining four staff felt safer since the redundancies. The worst time had been waiting to see who'd be shown the door.

"No chance you could be made to walk the long walk?"

Matt shook his head. "I'm Head of Sales so without me they've no sales force. How're things with you? Busy?"

"Never better. Credit crunch, my arse." Alex was a rep for a medical-supplies company. "Sickness is recession-proof. Better, if anything. Everyone on antidepressants."

"Any new updates on the wedding plans?" Hilary asked Jenna. Alex and Jenna were getting married in October.

"No change since I saw you, Hilary."

"I suppose it was only a couple of days ago." Hilary was disappointed.

"But the stag night," Alex said, "now that's coming along very nicely. Has Russ been on to you?"

Russ was Alex's best friend and joint best man with Matt.

"No."

"No? He said he was going to email you. Anyway, it's all set up. We're going to Vegas."

"Vegas! What happened to Amsterdam?"

"Everyone goes to Amsterdam."

"We'll never do Vegas in a weekend."

"That's right, my man. That's why we're going for a week."

A week? Matt and Maeve exchanged a look.

"Last week in August," Alex said. "Make sure you've got the time off work."

"Look . . . Alex . . . I'm your best man. I'm in charge of your stag night. Not you."

"You're my joint best man. You couldn't make the last two meets to organize stuff, so we went ahead without you and organized Vegas. Which suits the rest of us down to the ground."

"But what would we do in Vegas for a week?"

"I can think of plenty," Walter said.

"Are you coming?" Matt asked his father.

"Of course I'm coming! It's my oldest son's stag night, stag week, whatever you want to call it. I believe there's great golfing in Vegas, that'll keep us all occupied."

"I don't play golf," Matt said.

"So take it up," Alex said. "You've a couple of months before we go. Anyway, about time you started, it's one of the few things yourself and Maeve haven't tried. Horse-riding, skiing, mountain-biking, hillwalking . . .? Speaking of which, how's your hillwalking going?"

"Great. Great."

"Were you out today? A perfect day for it."

"No, we thought the place would be overrun with schoolkids and we needed to be back in time for tonight."

"And last weekend?"

"I think we were out last weekend? Were we, Maeve?"

"I think we were," Maeve said.

Alex gave them a look: he knew they were lying.

Suddenly, Hilary clapped her hand over her mouth and said to Maeve, "God above, I've just remembered. We forgot your anniversary."

". . . Anniversary?" Maeve asked.

"Your wedding anniversary? Two weeks ago. I'm so sorry, but in all the excitement with Jenna and Alex . . . Are you okay, Maeve? You've gone a bit pale."

"I'm grand."

Hilary studied Maeve's face. "You are pale." Realization moved behind Hilary's eyes. "Oh my God! Is there something you'd like to tell us?"

"What?"

"Special news for us?" Hilary's face was radiant with hope and gin.

"Muu-uum." Matt buried his head in his hands. This was what happened when Hilary didn't stick to the wine. "Maeve isn't pregnant. If and when it happens, we'll tell you. You don't have to keep asking."

"But I can't help it!" Hilary was slightly slurring her words. "You've been married for more than three years and I'm the only woman in the tennis club without a grandchild. It's embarrassing!"

"Sorry, Mum," Matt said quietly.

Maeve gazed at her thighs, her face burning.

"Because there are things you can do," Hilary said. "If you're having 'difficulties.' "

"God," Alex groaned. "Who let her at the gin?"

"Tests and things. They'd start with you, Matt. You'd have to go into a little cubicle-"

"Stop! Stop right now!" Alex said.

"No son of mine is going into any little cubicles," Walter rumbled. "No son of mine is firing blanks."

"A week in Vegas?" Maeve said, in the taxi home.

"I'm not going."

"He's your brother, you're his best man, you have to go."

Day 56 . . .

Less than thirty yards from l'Ecrivain, Katie was in another restaurant, celebrating her fortieth birthday with five other women.

"Poor Katie." Dawn sighed drunkenly. "You never got to have children."

"I'm not dead yet."

"As good as," Dawn said. "There's no hope for you now. This Conall, he doesn't want kids, does he?"

Katie looked at Naomi, who had obviously been spilling the beans. "How do you know he doesn't want kids?"

Naomi flushed. "I just said he wasn't domesticated."

"Why?"

"He didn't put your mirror up."

"It's up."

"He took his time about it."

"It's up now."

"He'd better be back from Helsinki for Jason's wedding," Naomi blustered.

"He'll be back."

"And if he isn't?"

And if he isn't . . .?

"He's very fond of his niece, Bronagh." Katie shouldn't have to defend Conall to Dawn. "She's his god-daughter and they get on great. And she's a kid, she's only seven."

"Really? That doesn't sound like him."

"But you've never even met him!"

"Here come the martinis!" Sinead said desperately. "Lovely strong drinks. Just what we all need!"

It was turning out to be a very strained night. Normally, they all got along great, despite their different circumstances: Naomi, married with two kids; MaryRose, a single mother; Sinead, single and childless; Tania, married with two kids; Katie, girlfriend of Conall and therefore in some twilight no-man's-land where she wasn't exactly single but she definitely wasn't locked into something secure and permanent.

It was Dawn. Dawn was the source of the trouble and she wasn't even Katie's friend; she'd only been allowed to come out of kindness.

"I bet you haven't met his parents," Dawn said.

"Who? Conall's? I have."

"Did they hate you? Did they think you were after his money?"

". . . Ah, no." She'd met Ivor and Ita a few times and they'd been friendly-but not creepy. They didn't treat Katie as the savior, the woman that might finally force their oldest son to settle down. "And I've met his brother and his kids tons of times." Well, maybe tons of times was stretching things a little. "I was at Bronagh's First Communion last month."

Dawn took a gulp of her pomegranate martini. "How will you cope when he dumps you?"

Tension froze the table. Dawn was simply articulating what everyone else thought, but all of a sudden it was starting to annoy Katie.

"Dawn . . ." Naomi said anxiously.

"You'll end up in the nuthouse," Dawn decided.

"That's enough," Katie said sharply. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"But I-" Dawn looked horrified. Katie was normally so . . . nice, pleasant.

Katie felt as appalled as Dawn looked. This was the second sharp exchange she'd had in the last few days. The first was with her mum about her hair color, and now this. God. It was true what Naomi had said: now that she was forty she was suddenly going to be super-touchy and she'd have no choice about it. She'd make enemies everywhere.

"Dawn, look, I'm sorry." She couldn't hold it against Dawn. Dawn had a young baby, she hadn't had a night out in seven months, and she'd lost both her social skills and her tolerance for strong liquor.

"I haven't had sex in two years!" Sinead declared, diplomatically trying to plow a new conversational furrow. "Last time was Katie's thirty-eighth birthday. That was a great night. Remember the crowd of Slovakian fact-finders we met-"

"I haven't had sex in eleven months," Naomi said.

"But you're married! I'd give anything for regular sex," Sinead said.

Naomi tisked. "I wouldn't care if I never did it again."