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I watch him as he goes off in search of his family, before turning my attention to Mum and Dad, who are sitting on the other side of the room, chatting quietly. He’s holding her hand and she’s smiling at him. Hebe and Mark are also over there, and she’s beaming as they talk to some of their friends. Even Raymond, who is patently sloshed from the way his head keeps lolling to one side, has Mark’s mum looking after him. All around me is the slightly-too-loud buzz of conversation that’s been loosened by a few glasses of wine and that’s when it hits me. I’m in a room full of people, but I’ve never felt so alone.

5

‘Hello, Athena.’ The voice startles me out of my reverie. It’s familiar but it takes me a moment to place it, especially as the owner has changed almost beyond recognition.

‘Trevor,’ I tell him when I work out who he is. ‘I didn’t know you were going to be here.’

‘As the older brother of the best man, I managed to snag an invitation to the evening do,’ he explains as I notice his eyes taking me in. ‘Not quite A list, but I’ll take it. Am I allowed to say you look good? I love the hair. Very chic.’

Trevor, not to put too fine a point on it, was my first snog. Thinking back now, I’m not entirely sure how it came about. We were friendly enough at school, but I never fancied him, although a couple of my friends thought he harboured a secret crush on me. We were in a lot of the same classes and had the same friendship group, so we tended to find ourselves at the same social gatherings. I liked the fact that he wasn’t a show-off jerk like some of the other boys in the group, so I guess I gravitated more to him than them, but that was all. So it still surprises me when I remember the party where we kissed. We’d all consumed a little too much illicit alcohol that someone had stolen from their parents and he was talking about how he was going to miss me because I was going to a different school to do my A-Levels. I’m trying to remember how a seemingly innocent conversation turned into a full-on snog. Did someone dare us? I do remember the kiss itself. It was rough, like our tongues were competitors on Gladiators, bashing against each other as if trying to knock the other off some imaginary podium. I think it must have been a dare, because he got quite the round of applause from the other boys afterwards. Anyway, that was the first time I properly kissed a boy, and it didn’t exactly leave me panting for more.

The man standing in front of me now is barely recognisable as the same person. He’s lost a lot of weight so, instead of the round, slightly soft appearance of his teenage years, Trevor’s facial features are now sharply defined. His floppy light-brown hair is now swept back and, if I’m not mistaken, held in place with some form of product. There is no sign of the ugly gold-framed glasses he used to wear, courtesy, I’m guessing, of coloured contact lenses, unless his watery blue eyes have darkened to a deep blue of their own accord. The reason for his weight loss becomes clearer as my gaze continues down. He either has a physically demanding job or he spends a lot of time in the gym, as I can clearly see his well-defined muscles moving underneath his tight-fitting shirt. The simple fact is that he looks good, in a menswear catalogue kind of way. I glance automatically at his left hand, but there’s no sign of a ring.

‘Thank you,’ I tell him. ‘You’re not looking so bad yourself. How are things?’

‘Oh, ticking along pretty nicely, thanks. You know how it is, though; you can never have too many irons in the fire, so I’m always on the lookout for the next business opportunity. What about you? What does Athena do to earn a crust these days?’

After my dressing down from Raymond, I’m a little reluctant to dive into the details of my job again, so I’m tempted to make my excuses on the premise that Hebe needs me, but Trevor is too quick for me, flagging down a passing waiter and prising a bottle of wine off him, before settling himself in a chair and waving at another to indicate that I should join him.

‘So?’ he asks, as he fills both our glasses.

‘I’m an IT consultant, specialising in retail,’ I tell him.

‘A consultant, eh? Sounds like you and I have something in common.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I do quite a lot of consulting in my game. I’m in the executive coaching business, did I mention?’

OK, that is not what I expected him to say. Unless he’s had an absolutely stellar career, I’m not sure how he’d have managed to accrue the kind of life experience that would make someone like our new head of sales take him seriously. But then I think of Troy and everything that happened to him. Maybe he’s had to overcome huge odds to get to where he is now, just like Troy.

The cynical side of me is also genuinely curious to find out what it is an executive coach does. If I’m honest, I’ve always been a bit suspicious of all these life coaches, wellness experts and so on. Is there actually anything in it, or are they just preying on gullible people and charging huge fees for very little benefit?

‘Oh, wow,’ I say. ‘That sounds like an interesting career. I’ve always wanted to know what the executives need coaching for. I mean, surely the whole point of being an executive is that you’ve kind of already made it?’

Trevor takes a sip of his wine and looks at me appraisingly for a moment before answering.

‘I think that depends on your definition of “made it”, don’t you?’ he says. ‘There’s always another horizon. Actually, scrap that. Think of it like climbing a mountain. First of all, you need the right equipment. The safety ropes, carabiners, harnesses and so on.’

‘Have you taken up climbing as well?’ I ask, wondering whether that’s the explanation for his toned muscles.

‘I’m not talking literally,’ he replies. ‘But, no matter how well you’ve prepared, all you can see is the next peak when you’re climbing a mountain. So that’s what you aim for, see?’

‘I guess so.’

‘And you don’t know if the peak in front of you is the summit, or whether you’ll get there and find there’s another, higher peak beyond it. So you push on towards the peak you can see and focus all your energy on that, expecting to feel that rush of achievement when you get there.’

‘That makes sense.’

‘But what happens when you arrive and realise you haven’t made it to the top after all? The first things you’re going to feel are disappointment and frustration. You thought you’d reached the summit, but you’re just on yet another stepping stone.’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier if you were looking at the map though, rather than stumbling from peak to peak without a clue where you are? I mean, if we’re using this as a metaphor, that seems like a surefire way to get lost and end up having to call out Mountain Rescue, or whomever. If you had a map, you’d know exactly where you were and could make a coherent plan.’

‘Exactly.’ Trevor looks triumphant. ‘So, let’s say you’re Mr Hotshot Executive. You know where you are, you know where you want to be and you’re pretty sure you’ve got all the equipment to get you there, but you need someone to help you plan a route between the two places. That’s where I come in.’

‘And these guys trust you? I mean, you must be a lot younger than most of them.’

‘Age is immaterial,’ he tells me firmly. ‘I’ve got all the qualifications, and a track record of getting people where they want to be in the timeframe they set. These things speak for themselves.’