Impossible to Forget(72)

Another waiter was hovering nearby, and Maggie switched her empty glass for a full one.

‘I think I prefer my people a bit closer to real,’ said Angie.

‘Do you recognise anyone else?’ asked Maggie. She was half-thinking that there might be some minor celebrities amongst the guests, but she was unlikely to spot them. Angie lived with a teenager, which might keep her more in touch with that kind of thing, but Angie was shaking her head.

‘Not a soul,’ she replied. ‘We’ll say hello to Hope, stay for a couple of free drinks but then I vote we make a discreet exit. I doubt we’ll be missed and it’s not really my kind of do.’

‘Nice to be invited, though,’ said Maggie, and Angie nodded in agreement.

‘Suppose so,’ she said.

Hope turned her attention from her admirers then, and she must have caught sight of Angie because she raised an arm and smiled, mouthing ‘Hi’ in their direction. Maggie thought that this would be their lot. It seemed unlikely that the hostess would leave her friends to talk to them, but Hope broke away from her group and headed their way. She walked as if she were on a catwalk, her hips swaying gently. It was hard not to stare. Maggie saw the group that she had left nodding towards her and Angie with questioning expressions, but no one was that interested in who they might be and soon the glare of their attention was turned on someone else.

‘Angie! Hi,’ said Hope when she got close enough to them to be heard. ‘I’m so glad you could make it.’

‘Happy birthday,’ said Angie. ‘You don’t do things by halves, do you?’

‘Is it too much?’ asked Hope anxiously. ‘I never know how to pitch these things.’

It was a disingenuous comment, Maggie thought. Nobody put on a do like this without knowing exactly the impact that it would have. She felt a mild dislike for the woman begin to creep over her and she tried to bat it back down. It was far too soon to judge, but Hope had barely spoken ten words and already Maggie was unsure about her.

‘God, it’s perfect.’ Angie laughed. ‘Posh – but perfect. Are you having a great time, though? That’s the main thing.’

Hope pursed her lips into a little knot and Maggie felt her dislike grow. She had all this and still she wasn’t happy. It felt so entitled, so shallow, just like the party. Were these even her real friends, or just a gaggle of the right kind of people to have at a do like this, a deluxe rent-a-crowd? The whole thing lacked integrity to Maggie’s mind, and she wondered why Angie had been taken in by it, by her. It was so unlike Ange to fall for anything fake.

‘I’ll be better when Dan gets here,’ said Hope. ‘He had to start evening service at the restaurant, but he promised me that he’d sneak away before it got busy and be here early. No sign yet, though. I’ll have his balls on a platter when he finally shows his face.’

Angie pulled a sympathetic face and again, Maggie was surprised. She really must have a soft spot for this girl, otherwise she wouldn’t tolerate this nonsense. Maggie decided that she needed to cut Hope some slack. Maybe this wasn’t really what she was like, just part of some grand pretence.

‘Forget him,’ said Angie. ‘It’s his loss. You focus on having a lovely time.’

‘Thanks,’ said Hope. ‘I’d better get back to circulating. Thanks for coming, Angie.’ She turned to leave and then turned back. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. You must be Angie’s friend,’ she said to Maggie. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Yes, this is Ma . . .’ began Angie, but Hope had gone.

‘You weren’t kidding about the rude thing,’ Maggie hissed.

‘I think she’s under pressure,’ said Angie.

It was clear that she felt the need to defend her friend, and that irritated Maggie as well. Just who was the lifelong friend here and who the new pretender?

‘It can be stressful, hosting, especially something like this,’ Angie continued.

Maggie thought that this was no excuse for not even bothering to listen to her name, but she bit her tongue. The girl was nothing to her and she was unlikely to ever meet her again. Her shoulders were broad enough to bear a snub from such a self-obsessed little brat. And, she supposed, Angie liked her, so she must have something going for her, even if whatever it was wasn’t immediately apparent.

As the evening progressed and the air temperature outside began to fall, more of the guests came inside and the room began to fill. The sound of chatting and laughter grew louder and eventually she and Angie gave up trying to talk and simply watched. For all the stench of entitlement that came off them, the guests were a fascinating bunch to observe. They were all good-looking and groomed to a level that Maggie could never achieve, but she noticed how they never focused on the people that they were talking to and always had one eye on the rest of the room. Many of them spent all their time taking photos of themselves, often without anyone else in the shot. It was a level of narcissism that was alien to Maggie, but which these Millennials seemed completely at ease with. In a way, Maggie was envious of their self-assured confidence, but surely life wasn’t just a series of Instagram opportunities? At some point, even those as privileged as this lot appeared to be would have to face some of life’s hard edges. She checked herself. She was starting to think like an old person; like her mother, in fact. What was wrong with celebrating the here and now and recording it to share with others? Just because she couldn’t imagine doing it herself didn’t make it reprehensible.