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rattled. Being the focus of crass humour and potential physical assault for five days will be a trial. I am exposed to an arctic wind not knowing how hard it will blow. I struggle to think of what to do next but my stags don’t.
    â€œLet’s get this party started right. Let’s have a stag photo. Maybe outside in the hallway?” Johnny tries to engage them and wrestle their raucous spirit for me.
    â€œStag T-shirts on of course,” insists Steve.
    â€œProper stags only though,” says Robert. He glances at me, then Juliet, to make sure I exclude her, automatically expecting Sophia to stay in her place as well.
    Juliet realises this quickly and meets it with her own purpose. “Could I stay here to catch up with Sophia; we have so much to talk about.” Sophia looks shocked.
    We move outside the coffee shop where a perplexed passer-by is enlisted to capture this edgy moment on camera. I lock arms with my men as best I can, crouching down a little to stay at their shoulder height. At this moment I do not judge. During the whooping and hollering we find a level male playing field, a half-remembered playground that I hated even then.

C HAPTER 4
    Juliet 14.12
    â€œH OW CAN I REACH ACROSS OUR SEVENTEEN YEARS APART?”
    Dan shows no immediate signs of ageing. The same overgrown black hair and wiry physique. The same hooded eyelids conceal his striking grey-green eyes. The same trademark thick black-rimmed glasses. He still tries in vain to compress his tall frame by bowing his head, to feel part of the crowd.
    However, seventeen more years must have created a man from the boy I went out with. He has a career in advertising, a ruthless shallow industry that would make anyone grow up. He has made a commitment to a wife and child that he would have been incapable of then. The last time I saw him was on the balcony of our flat in the Isle of Dogs when I said goodbye. I crushed his spirit too easily.
    Dan will hate the attention of this embarrassing parade of stag photographs. Men are at their most natural in ape-like packs; they are immediate conspirators. I have overheard their speech instantly descend to perversity, cruelty and insult, casting off care or attention. If they withhold boyish laughter or a sly grin at a crucial point it weakens them. I have seen careers wrecked by the pack and decisions to risk millions made by such a board of apes. I am used to being the woman in the boys’ club. In order to be tolerated I must make my own rules; know when to be passive and when to attack. The question is how far will this group go to embarrass Dan?
    I have been upright, observing the stag pictures for too long. I must try and close the vacuum with Sophia. As I sit down next to her I imagine everyone else’s cappuccinos going cold in her frosty presence. She won’t look at me.
    â€œDiddy gone, Mummy.” The sweet Bepe seems calm that his dad isn’t around. Sophia grips him firmly around the chest.
    â€œNot yet. But he is going on a big plane soon,” Sophia explains softly.
    â€œYou look a radiant bride-to-be.” My olive branch is an unwelcome addition to the £120 tropical spray.
    â€œWhy are you here Juliet?” Sophia uses our small window for truth, while staring at the mayhem in the corridor. I get a beautiful flash of her Italian lineage.
    â€œI couldn’t come to your wedding so called to apologise. I said I would like to see him before he got married and he asked me on his stag weekend. I thought it very odd but didn’t want to refuse a second invitation,” I reported the truth but not why I wanted to see him.
    â€œBut a stag party, it is wrong. Why are you here after all this time?”
    â€œI wanted to recognise your wedding. I just wanted to congratulate him on growing up and settling down. ” I fend off her question for a second time.
    â€œYou could have just sent flowers.” Now I am worried; she is scared of what he might