He had brought a guest. It was Eddie, from Bar Humbug.
“Hello darling,” he said, twinkling rather. “I’ve given myself the night off. I was told you needed a plus one, and you know how I feel about looking after the old and vulnerable in society, don’t you? Now then, free food, is it? I’m positively waif-like.”
I laughed and turned to Conor: “How did you know?”
Conor tapped his nose. “Eyes everywhere, me.”
Eddie put his arm in mine and began to inch me towards the buffet. Then I heard my name called from behind. I stopped and spun around.
Manish stood with Helen and Dennis, holding one thumb victoriously aloft. Dennis, his impish grin restored, saw and copied him. I raised my soft glass in congratulation.
I turned back again to Eddie to resume, not exactly where we left off however many months ago it was, but in the immediate vicinity thereof. I was in time to see Pamela introduced to Conor, and for Seb’s arm to snake around Conor’s waist and come to rest peacefully and happily.
There was no sign of the Archivist or Amanda.