Party night

THE TOAST OF the evening is "absent friends", and very appropriate it is, too.

Four of the ladies present are widows, two of whom have lost their husbands in the last year, and that's not counting our friend, Little B, who would have almost certainly been of our company tonight.

Still, we're here to celebrate the coming union of our two seventy-five year old youngsters, and to wish them every future happiness.

To this end, after we finish our fish and chips, we fellahs withdraw to the other bar of the Pub and leave the ladies to discuss whatever it is that ladies do discuss at such events; we lads get down to the serious business of the evening.

And as I sit and nurse my single glass of dry, white wine - I'm driving!- I watch with amusement as the chaps down their pints until Sailor John is three sheets to the wind and sailing without the need of a boat.

I give Den one piece of wisdom: "You'll soon be the master of the house, but don't forget that Fran will still be the boss!"

He nods his head seriously. Poor chap, not yet wed, but he's already looking ten years older!

But it's a pleasant evening, and I hope and believe that Den and Fran enjoyed the company of their friends.