The gang’s all here: Joan is sitting beside Jimmy, although she’s spending most of her time trying to get to talk to Sam, who’s holding court right in the dead centre of the group, buying round after round of drinks and absolutely refusing to let anyone else put their hand in their pocket.

The gig has just started and an MC is out on stage warming up, announcing what the contest is all about, with the juicy carrot of a cash prize for the lucky winner plus getting an agent out of it too. But I’m not even focused on what he’s saying. And neither is anyone else; everyone’s yakking away, getting drinks down them, getting in the mood to cheer, boo or maybe even throw rotting vegetables at the acts to come.

I’m swivelling around trying to spot Steve and eventually I see him at the bar, with Hannah and her husband Paul, who’ve just arrived. So I go over and ask them to join us, just as Sharon arrives…alone.

I’m in the middle of introducing Hannah and Paul to the others when Sam interrupts me. ‘So everyone, I’ve a surprise for you all.’ He throws a meaningful glance over to me and for a second my heart stops. Not with excitement though, with worry. And I couldn’t even tell you why.

‘Tomorrow is a very special occasion for me,’ Sam goes on, the centre of attention, radiating bonhomie, and then suddenly everything’s OK and I can breathe again. Because I do know what’s coming. I remember the date all too well.

‘It’s my thirty-fifth birthday party and I’d like each and every one of you to come along. It’s going to be held in Bentleys at eight o’clock and you’re all welcome, as my personal guests. I know it’s a Monday night and everything, but it would be so wonderful if you could make it. It’ll be a fabulous night. And any friends of Jessie’s are friends of mine.’

Gotta hand it to the guy; he really is sticking to his vow to get to know my family and friends better. The triumphant glance he shoots at me seems to say just as much. He even gets a round of applause from the assembled company. Well, from all of them bar Steve, that is. There’s a chorus of ‘Oh thank you so much!’ and I can even hear Joan asking whether there’ll be any actual celebrities there?

‘Thanks for the invite, but I doubt I’ll be able to make it,’ says Steve quietly, flashing a subtle glance in my direction.

Then Sharon’s over to him. ‘No, no please you have to come!’ she insists, looking pleadingly up at him. ‘Couldn’t you give me a lift there on your motorbike? I’ve always wanted a go on the back of a bike. Ah go on, Steve, please!’

He looks down kindly at her and says, well, OK then, if it means that much to her.

It’s at this point that I officially can’t take any more, so I work my way over to Steve and ask if I can see him in private. Now. Before Maggie goes onstage. Rude I know, but needs must. I can feel Sam’s eyes boring into me, but I don’t care. Gotta do this.

Steve nods and leads me to the back of the cellar, well out of earshot.

‘I need to talk to you,’ I begin although I scarcely know what’s coming next.

‘I need to talk to you too.’

‘I…I…well, for starters I wanted to explain about…you know…everything. I didn’t expect you to call to the house earlier you see, and I hope I wasn’t rude…’

‘Jessie,’ he says quietly. ‘I need to ask you something.’

‘Yes?’ My heart’s thumping now and I don’t even know why.

‘Are you seeing that guy again?’

‘No! No, not at all, we’re just…well, remember that caller on the show the other night? The one right at the very end? Well, that was him.’

‘I gathered. I also copped on that there was something majorly wrong with you when you barely said two words on the way home afterwards.’

‘You have to understand, I was in total shock. You’ve no idea. Sam really put me through the wringer…’

‘I know. My question is, and I really hope you’ll be honest with me here, are you about to get back with him?’

Suddenly, I feel a wash of irritation. As if, after all the tensions of the night, I finally just snap. ‘You know, I’d be perfectly entitled to tell you right now that it’s really none of your business.’

‘Not true and not fair. Who you go out with is my business.’

‘What did you just say?’

‘Because…look, Jessie, I never wanted to tell you this way. But it seems I’ve not got much choice now, do I?’

I look blankly at him, desperately trying to tune out the background noise so I can concentrate on what he’s about to say. Whatever it may be.

‘Because…’ He takes a deep breath here, brushing back the floppy fair hair and suddenly I find myself having to concentrate on breathing. ‘Because, Jessie Woods, I’m mad about you. Completely and utterly insanely bonkers off my head about you. I think about you day and night and…Jesus, listen to me, I sound like a teenager…But the truth is that when I’m not thinking about you, I’m counting down the hours to when I’ll see you again. The only reason I never told you any of this before, is that I convinced myself you were still hurting over that smug tosser sitting there now. That the best thing I could possibly do was back off and give you time and space. I don’t want to be your rebound guy. And then I come back after only being away for a few days and here he is. In his Bentley acting like he owns you. Jessie, he is NOT the guy for you. Maybe you’ll tell me that I’m not either, but he most definitely isn’t. Don’t you see? For such a smart girl, why are you acting so stupidly? You don’t hear a word out of him for months on end after the guy broke your heart and turned his back on you. Then suddenly he bounces back into your life as soon as you’re officially a success again. It’s not a coincidence, Jessie. Think about it. You know in your heart of hearts that I’m right.’

‘Steve, please…’ I can’t even finish that sentence. Because just then the MC makes an announcement.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, if I can ask you to give a warm welcome to our first comedienne tonight. Introducing Maggie Woods!’

I actually think there’s a chance I might faint. Between trying to digest what Steve’s just said and trying to concentrate on Maggie’s act, my head is swimming and my breathing is coming in short sharp stabs. Like by some weird osmosis, I’ve now taken on all her stage fright for her.

Because Maggie is stunning. Not a nerve in her body. Dark. Nihilistic. And though I’m in no mood for laughing, I find myself not able to keep a straight face at some of her precision-bomb gags.

‘I can’t multi-task,’ is her opener. ‘I once had an appointment with my dentist and my gynaecologist on the same morning. I ended up lying in the wrong chair in the wrong direction. Which was very upsetting for my gay dentist.’

A huge roar of laughter and she’s away, effortlessly segueing into a meticulously rehearsed routine about working in the Inland Revenue office and the cast of characters/oddballs/wackos therein. It’s astonishing, but within seconds you can just feel that she has everyone in the room absolutely, one hundred per cent on her side. What can I say? A star is born.

Maggie doesn’t win. To much feet-stomping and general disgruntlement, she comes runner-up, narrowly losing out to a guy with a guitar, who sings all these little ditties about how he felt when he broke up with his girlfriend and was left broken-hearted. To pick himself back up off the floor again, he decided to set up a greeting card company for guys left in his position. One of his top sellers is a simple card which reads, ‘To my ex-girlfriend. At this time of year I always find myself thinking about you.’ Then you open it up to read, ‘Happy Halloween, you witch.’ Another wildly popular card says simply, ‘Will you marry me?’ And inside reads, ‘Ha, ha, I’m only messing, I think we should see other people.’ You get the picture.