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could get me very seriously hurt, or worse.
    In my darker moments it sometimes occurred to me that these entanglements - or one of them - would be the death of me.
    ‘Haven’t seen you for a while.’ Emma was leaning towards me, talking quietly, voice nearly lost in the party’s hubbub.
    ‘Things have been hectic.’
    ‘I bet. I saw Jo storming out.’
    ‘Well, no; that wasn’t quite a storm. It wasn’t a common walk, either, granted. Somewhere in between; more of a flounce.’
    ‘Something you said?’
    ‘Remarkably, no. No, that was a work-related flounce, or storm. Where’s Craig?’
    ‘Picking up Nikki.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Should be here soon.’
    ‘And how is the gorgeous—?’
    ‘So,’ Emma broke in. ‘How’s your programme going?’
    ‘You have to ask?’ I pretended to be hurt. ‘Don’t you listen any more?’
    ‘You lost me when you were banging on about how only criminals should have guns.’
    ‘That’s not quite what we were saying.’
    ‘Maybe you should have been more clear. What were you saying?’
    ‘I can’t remember,’ I lied.
    ‘Yes you can. You were saying criminals should have guns.’
    ‘I was not! I was saying the idea that if you took hand-guns away from ordinary law-abiding people then only criminals would have guns was a crap argument for keeping guns.’
    ‘Because?’
    ‘Because it’s the ordinary law-abiding people who go crazy and walk into primary schools and open fire on a class of kids; compared to that , crims use guns responsibly. To them a gun’s just a tool, and something they tend to use on other crims, I might add, not a gym full of under-eights.’
    ‘You said criminals should have guns; that’s a quote. I heard you.’
    ‘Well, if I did, I was just exaggerating for comic effect.’
    ‘I don’t think it’s anything—’
    ‘You probably missed the way we developed that,’ I told her. ‘We decided only extroverts and nutters should get guns, crims or not. Because it’s always the quiet ones that go mad. Ever noticed that? The shocked neighbours always say the same things: he was very quiet, he always kept himself to himself … So; guns for nutters only. Makes sense.’
    ‘You’re not even consistent; you used to argue everybody should have guns.’
    ‘Emma, I’m a professional contrarian. That’s my job. Anyway, I changed my mind. I realised I was on the same side as people who argued that the States and Israel were havens of peace and security because everybody was tooled up.’
    Emma snorted.
    ‘Well,’ I said, waggling the hand that wasn’t holding my drink, ‘the statistics aren’t that clear-cut. They have a lot of guns in Switzerland, too, and not much gun crime.’
    Emma watched her drink as she swirled it in her glass. ‘You wouldn’t last in the States,’ she muttered.
    ‘What?’ I said, mystified.
    ‘Somebody would shoot you.’
    ‘What?’ I laughed. ‘Nobody’s shot Howard Stern.’
    ‘I was thinking more of jealous husbands, boyfriends, that sort of thing.’
    ‘Ah.’ I knocked back my Scotch. ‘Now that’s a different argument entirely.’ I stood up. ‘Can I get you another drink?’
     
    In the long, gleaming gallery that was the kitchen, Faye was sweeping up a smashed glass from the slate floor. The caterers were unpacking more food from cool boxes. I squeezed through a group of people I vaguely knew via my pals in advertising, saying Hi and Hello and How are you?, smiling and patting, shaking offered hands.
    Kul was leaning against the puce-coloured SMEG fridge while a suit with a flushed face and holding a slim briefcase tapped him on the chest.
    ‘… us have to go to work this afternoon you know,’ the suit was saying. ‘We have meetings.’
    Kul shrugged. ‘I put on gigs, man. I work at weekends. This was the first day we could both manage.’
    ‘Well, okay, let you off this time,’ the flushed suit said, swaying. ‘But don’t let it happen again.’ He laughed loudly.
    ‘Ha