We had asked people to come at about six o’clock so they can spend some time with Vicky before she goes to bed. Once everyone’s contribution of entertaining the birthday girl will have been paid and she’ll be happily sleeping upstairs, we can all sit down and have dinner.
A freshly showered and shaved George is in the kitchen opening the first bottle of wine while Seb and Mia are keeping Vicky company in the living room, so I’m left with the chore of receiving the guests.

The first to arrive are Karl and Claire. Karl’s struggling through the door with a large, colorfully wrapped up box, whose contents will make, no doubt, Vicky’s delight. Claire hands me over a bottle of wine, one of the finests from Karl’s collection I assume.

Once in the room, Karl goes straight to Vicky and picks her up.

‘Happy birthday little pumpkin,’ he says while blowing a peck on her cheek.

Good friends are them two, and I suspect this has partly to do with Vicky’s fascination with his beard.  She’s developed a quiet unusual fondness for it and she never misses an opportunity to check out if it’s the real thing. 

‘Ouch!’ Karl grimaces when Vicky plunges her hands into the bushy addition to the lower part of his face and pulls. ‘You cheeky little thing!’

Vicky giggles. Yep, I managed to get a reaction out of him so it must be real.

Not long and the buzzer goes off again. It’s Tina and Craig. Before I manage to shut the door, I spot Steve’s car pulling on the opposite side of the road. There are more gifts and plenty of wine, we could definitely go on a drinking binge if we wanted to.
Seb and Mia are the only ones who need introduction to some of the others so the task is easy and no time consuming.

We are all gathered in the living room and I bring in some apperitives I prepared earlier while George’s taking care of the drinks. Vicky’s in her best mood, making the most of all the attention she gets. 

It’s almost half past six but there’s no sign of Paul yet. I don’t want to think about it, but I feel disappointed. He and Vicky have just begun to bond and I can’t understand why he can’t make an effort to be here with her on her first birthday. In less than an hour I’ll have to take her upstairs, she’s only a baby and no matter what the occasion, she still needs her rest. My mood is rapidly changing as the minutes pass and I’m now struggling to keep on a smiley face.

‘Are you ok, honey?’ George asks when I laugh a bit too loud at one of Steve’s jokes.

I know I’m overdoing the cheeriness, all to cover up the misery that’s taking over. The others might have not noticed but it’s hard to hide it from George. I think he can read me like an open book.

Just before seven o’clock the sound of the buzzer startles me. George glances at me:

‘Do you want me to get that?’

‘No, thanks. I’ll do it.’

I do hope it’s him.

‘Hello?’ I press the answering button on the door phone.

‘Adi, it’s me.’ Yep, it is Paul.

‘Come in.’ My heart gets lifted from the ten thousand feet it has dropped since six o’clock.

However, when I open the door it dives back: he’s not on his own, a very attractive, elegant woman is hanging on his arm.

‘Adi, this is Joanne. Joanne, this is Adi,’ he introduces us. There aren’t any other titles mentioned but it doesn’t take me long to realize who she is. His girlfriend, no doubt about it. He’s found someone, that’s why he stopped showing any interest in me. And I can’t blame him, she looks exactly the type of woman you would expect someone like Paul to be with. Very stylish and beautiful, I can’t stop the stinging needles piercing inside my chest. I put on a polite smile while shaking her hand. Paul helps her to take off her coat and I notice she’s almost as tall as him. Well, she is wearing high heels shoes, but still, she’s definitely taller than me, I’m more on the average side. She’s wearing a pretty, very chic knee-length blue dress and I feel really plain and shoddy compare to her. 
Pushing aside the sorrow feelings, I remember who I am and welcome them in. In the living room I introduce Joanne to the others. Everyone knows Paul. My brother and Mia met him last Thursday evening when he popped in to see Vicky.
With all the resentment that’s been trying me on, I can’t help but admire Joanne: she’s not only a beautiful woman but also unaffectedly friendly and people take to her immediately. If I were a man, I think I’d fall in love with her in an instant. Even Vicky seems to warm up to her quite quick as Joanne kneels down in front of her and starts talking to her.

‘You must be so proud, Adi,’ she says, turning to me. ‘She’s so beautiful.’ At this moment I nearly hate myself, I feel like I’m falling under her spell too.

The only one who doesn’t seem too impressed is George; he’s polite of course, but he’s only got eyes for his girls, Vicky and me in other words.

Twenty minutes later everyone’s gathered around Vicky, watching her attempts at opening her presents when she suddenly starts rubbing her eyes and frowning her face. She’s had enough fun for tonight and now she’s feeling tired and ready to be taken to bed. She uncaringly ignores any assistance from anyone else apart from George.  She clutches her arms onto his neck as he picks her up. I’m on the other side of the room, fixing a drink for Steve, but I can still sense the awkwardness in the air: Paul has a smile on his face, but it’s a not a happy one. When I come back with Steve’s drink I feel like I should take Vicky upstairs myself just to ease the atmosphere a bit, but I don’t think that would be fair on George. He’s looked after her since day one, Vicky loves him and he’s got rights, Paul has to understand that. If there’s anyone to blame then he can take his frustration out on me.

‘Say goodbye, honey,’ George asks Vicky before leaving the room. But she’s too tired to be bothered to wave at anyone as she’d usually do and rejects his request by burying her face onto his neck.

Ten minutes later when George’s back we all move to the dining room and spread around the dining table.

‘Let me give you a hand,’ Tina offers ready to get up, but I put my hands on her shoulders pinning her down to her chair.

‘You sit down. George and I can manage.’ 

 We’re halfway through the courses and everyone seems to enjoy the food and the wine and the atmosphere is relaxed. Steve’s talking to Paul – they’ve met before through George, when Paul and George were still mates - about the latest news in construction trade. George’s teasing Tina about her new Mini Cooper – ‘Well, at least you don’t need recovery on it, if it breaks down you can push it to the nearest garage yourself,’ he mocks the size of the car – while my brother Seb’s giving Karl designing tips for his business website. Craig and Jenna are disagreeing about the benefits of the latest version of Microsoft anti-virus software – they both work in IT – while Claire is explaining Joanne all about the activities of the art foundation she’s involved with. 
I’m focusing my attention on making sure everyone has everything they need.

‘More apple sauce Steve? George, pour Jenna another glass of wine please. A glass of water? Of course Karl. I’ll bring another jug from the kitchen,’ is my only contribution to the conversations flowing around the table.

My eyes keep gliding involuntary in Joanne’s direction. She’s sitting next to Paul and the ‘what a nice couple’ tag sticks to my brain. I can’t stop wondering what on earth he’d ever seen in me when he could always have women like her. It must’ve been one of those moments of madness we all go through at some stage in our lives. They seem very fond of each other, there’s hand touching, lots of smiles exchanged, Paul making sure her glass’s never empty, they must be so much in love I bitterly acknowledge. Suddenly a malicious thought starts molesting my mind: maybe she will become part of my life too just as Paul, circumstantially, is. Maybe one day Vicky will spend weekends and holidays with her and Paul and their kids, Joanne will look after her and tell her what to do and what not to do. Perhaps she will criticize my way of bringing up Vicky, completely different from the way she will rule her kids, in front of Paul and her friends. She will be Vicky’s step-mother. My stomach grows grisly hollow and I know I can’t touch anymore any of the food left on my plate. I’m slowly chewing the bit I have in my mouth, my eyes are fixed on the plate in front of me, and I’m struggling to swallow.

‘Adi, are you ok?’ George’s voice brings my thoughts back in the room.

‘'Course I am, thanks,’ I put on a smile while looking at him. A guilty one, I know I shouldn’t let all these feelings shuffling inside me. George doesn’t deserve this.

The bitterness doesn’t want to leave me alone though. I look around at all these people enjoying my food tonight and I feel like I should’ve set up the table differently, with one chair to one side and all the other eleven on the opposite. One side will be crammed with eleven people struggling to use their knives and forks, rubbing elbows with each other, still, hungrily determined to enjoy their dinner, and contented with the sense of belonging to the same privileged group. Facing them, I could indulge myself in the void around me and sprawl along my edge of the table, but my appetite will be idle and my plate will stay untouched. I know I’m the odd one out in this room tonight.
I mean, who shall I start with? Maybe Paul - a highly skilled professional, pumping millions of pounds every year into his dad’s firm. George and Steve – business partners, both talented architects running their own booming practice. Karl – his wine entertains at fine parties all over the country and abroad. Claire - vice-chairman of a charitable art foundation, helping many young artists to achieve their dreams. Jenna – an IT consultant and Craig – a computer network engineer, both offering profitable companies much sought after services. Tina – a senior social worker, looking after and helping thousands of vulnerable people. My brother Seb – a talented graphic designer, snatched by a Dutch firm in return for a generous remuneration package. Mia – an experienced and valued teacher, and, not ultimately, Joanne – an accomplished editor assistant to a popular fashion magazine in London.

Have I left anyone out? Yep, I have. Me.  Because there isn’t much to be said this way. I don’t belong to their party, that’s why I think I should stick with my own side of the table. Ok, let’s give myself some credit, shall I? I’m the possessor of a first-class degree in fine arts and I once had the chance to have some of my work looked at in one of the art exhibitions in London, even that was thanks to family and friends though. True, my paintings sold, but still, I can hardly say that was the beginning of a promising career. Until not that long ago, well, just over a year, I was paying my bills out a modest site secretary’s wage, and you have to admit that isn’t exactly the most fulfilling job in the world, is it?

I don’t know if it’s just a strange coincidence or maybe telepathy, but suddenly Claire requests my attention.

‘Adi, I need to talk to you,’ she says.

I’m listening, I look at her, wondering what it might be.

 ‘I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you this for quite a while,’ she carries on once she’s assured she’s got my full interest, ’but until now I wasn’t sure if you were ready for it.’

I thank her for her consideration with a warm smile. All the others stop talking and listen curiously to what Claire has to say.

‘One of our clients has expressed a very avid interest in your work. His name is Max Falcon. He’s American and he runs his own gallery in London. He’s very much into contemporary arts, he’s the one who bought two of your paintings actually. He would like to meet you. From my conversations with him I believe he wants to make you a proposal to work for him.’

This comes quite unexpected and I’m astounded. I immediately stop sulking. George reaches my hand, raises it to his lips and kisses it gently.

‘This is great news, honey,’ he smiles proudly.

 Everyone else chip in their congratulations.

‘Thanks Claire, these are indeed wonderful news. But it’s early days yet,’ I modestly blush, looking at the others, but everyone seems really pleased for me. My eyes accidentally meet Paul’s and I think I can spot a flash of anger thrown at George’s hand, which is still holding mine. No, I’m most probably mistaken, it’s perhaps just a forbidden hope playing games with my imagination.

‘Well, you let me know when you’re ready and I’ll arrange for you two to meet up,’ Claire says.

‘Of course, thanks Claire,’ I say gratefully.

Once dinner’s finished we moved back to the living room. I go to the kitchen to get more wine and George follows me. In there he gives me a tender hug.

‘I’m really proud of you, honey,’ he says pressing his face against mine before kissing my hair. I wrap my arms around his neck. As we stand there clung to each other, I hear a noise and when I lift my eyes, I see Paul standing by the open door staring at us. Just for a second before he disappears towards the bathroom. George hasn’t noticed him, he’s facing the other side of the room. I feel uneasy and I pull away from George’s arms.

‘Can you take this in?’ I give him the bottle of wine I fetch from the wine rack. ‘I’m going upstairs to check up on Vicky, I’ll be back in a minute.’

‘Sure,’ he says.

In the nursery Vicky’s sleeping without a care in the world, lying on her front, fists resting on the pillow on each side of her head. I’m standing by her cot, feeling really warm inside: how could you possibly love someone so much I wonder.
I hear the ajar door pushed open and I turn around. It’s Paul. He must’ve heard me coming upstairs. I look at him and smile.

‘She’s sleeping,’ I say. ‘Do you want to see her?’

‘Uh-huh,’ he nods moving forward. Once next to me he watches Vicky for a second before brushing his finger on one of her tightly clutched hands.

‘Make sure you don’t wake her up,’ I jokingly warn him. ‘’Cos if you did, you’d be the one singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star”.’

He laughs quietly. His hand retreats from inside the cot and I feel it resting on my back. I don’t see anything odd in it, just a tender gesture, two parents watching their child sleeping. But it starts moving up and when it reaches my neck, it forces my head to turn towards him. He leans over and his face is now so close to mine I can feel his breath on my skin. His grip is tight and I have no choice than to turn around entirely. His mouth hungrily grasps my lips and he groans when he wraps his arms around me.
For a moment I forget where I am and all about the people downstairs and I respond to his kiss with the same enthusiasm. Just for a moment, before pushing him away.

‘What on earth do you think you’re doing, Paul?’ I whisper at him appalled. ‘Anyone could’ve come in, what if George…’

‘I wouldn’t really give a damn if he walked in right now,’ he hisses through his teeth. I look sideways nervously. He grabs my head with his hands, forcing me to face him.

‘Look at me when I’m talking to you,’ he whispers angrily. ‘I don’t know what game you’re trying to play with me, Adi, but he’s got something that belongs to me and I’m not going to let him get away with it. I won’t be giving up.’

There’s anger and determination but also something else, like a threat, in his voice and eyes that really frightens me.

‘Please leave now,’ I struggle to say.

He lets go of me and walks out of the room. I follow him a minute later but I need to stop and sit down on top of the stairs for few moments to bring myself together before walking down. I feel my legs quite shaky as I step in the living room, but I manage to smile at everyone when they ask how Vicky is. There are two pairs of eyes which can’t be fooled though: Tina and George’s, and they’re watching me with worry. My face must be really white.

I move to the corner where the drinks are and attempt to pour myself a glass of wine but I’m struggling with the cork.

‘Allow me,’ I hear Paul’s voice coming from behind. He pulls the cork out, picks up a glass and fills it three quarters with wine.

‘You know you shouldn’t be drinking Adi.’ George’s standing next to us now and he’s looking at me questioning. ‘You’re still on medication.’

I glance at Paul first and then at George and I gulp.

‘A glass of wine will do me no harm,’ I murmur while taking the glass out of Paul’s hands.

George doesn’t say anything else, he just watches me unhappy. When I look at Paul again, he has a satisfied smirk smudged on his face. He’s just won the first round and I’m really scared: will I be strong enough, all for George’s sake?