‘Right. Showtime,’ she announced. ‘I found this game in Ann Summers.’
Everyone groaned.
‘It will be fun,’ she laughed, flicking through the cards. ‘We’ll start with this: how often do you have sex? Anna, you go first.’
Anna pulled a napkin up to her face and giggled.
‘No! This is private stuff!’ she protested.
‘This is tame,’ replied Suze. ‘You should read some of the questions on these cards.’
‘Suze, please.’
‘Come on. Chop, chop. We’ve got a whole pack to get through.’ She was drunk, and the volume of her voice had gone up several decibels.
‘All right. Once.’
‘Once?’ said Suze at the top of her voice.
‘Once last week, but Matt’s been away. Usually it’s three or four times a week.’
‘Ooh! You pair of goers,’ smiled Suze, satisfied with her answer.
‘Is that normal? I thought that was normal,’ said Anna, looking for reassurance.
‘Three times a year, more like,’ laughed Caroline, one of Anna’s married friends from work.
They went round the table.
‘Abby. Your turn,’ said Suze mischievously.
‘Come on. I think we should have coffee to sober up,’ said Anna, flashing Suze a warning look.
‘No, I think Abby’s got something to say. Come on, Abs. Tell us about St Petersburg,’ pressed Suze, taking a sip of her mojito and looking mischievously over the rim of the glass.
‘Suze, please,’ she said, desperately regretting telling her friend about her night with Elliot.
‘Abby had a romantic interlude with one of London’s sexiest men the other day,’ announced Suze. ‘In Russia, no less.’
‘You shagged a Russian?’ said Sophie, Anna’s sister.
‘No,’ said Abby with exasperation.
‘Abby is seeing Elliot Hall,’ explained Suze expansively. ‘Gorgeous journalist. Blond. Rupert Penry-Jones lookalike.’
‘I know the one,’ said Caroline approvingly. ‘The bloke you wrote that spy story with. His photo is always in the Chronicle. No wonder. He’s hot.’
‘And loaded. You should see his house.’
‘Money isn’t everything,’ muttered Abby.
‘Abby, I am so pleased for you. Glad you’re back
in the saddle, so to speak,’ said Sophie.
The only person who looked more furious than Anna at the way the conversation was going was Ginny.
‘Right, coffee,’ said Anna.