"There is definitely something flashing upon her inward eye. I wonder if it is the same thing that’s flashing upon mine"

London, Sunday morning — and my sister, husband and I are lying on the sofa, trying to assemble the pieces of last night’s birthday party . 

I fear we are setting ourselves quite a task; between us we share throbbing temples, raging thirst, an uneasy feeling that we might have had slightly too much fun, one twisted ankle and a leg that’s swollen to twice its normal size.

“My leg was swollen anyway,” my husband says, raising his leg into the air for inspection. “the Achilles tendon is notoriously slow to heal.”