In which there is some wild boar and unjustified jealousy

Kitty came to stay for the weekend. On Saturday we took a meandering bus ride to Levens Hall, one of the oldest houses in Cumbria, for a chilli festival: a food festival, but hotter. We were to meet Felicity, her sister and her family. The rural upper middle classes were dressed in their code of brand new jeans, those pointy brown shoes for men, and upturned mauve and pink striped collars all round.

After starting at the Pimm's stall and the one from the local organic real ale brewery, Kitty and I bumped into Felicity. I did the introductions and we discussed where we were going to meet for the picnic. "OK then, we'll all meet at one over there," I said. "Well, she hasn't said she'd like to come," said Felicity. I was incredulous and made a face at Kitty. "No, no, no," I laughed, "Kitty's on the A-list, she's coming in."

Therefore, it was with something of an atmosphere hanging over us that we spread the picnic out. Felicity introduced us to her sister and her husband, upon which their eldest daughter loudly said "Daddy's a bible basher." "Shh, shh!" said Mum. "Don't say that." Felicity had made some lovely food, and I bought some boar and chestnut pies, but I was quite relieved when we all dispersed again.

I went on a chili roulette game where you spun a large pointer around which determined whether you got the normal chocolate or the one with a chili inside it. I ate the whole thing in one go in a show of charitable manliness, and was relieved to find that I'd got the unadulterated one.

Me and Kitty bumped into my next door neighbour but four. I confessed that for many years I had forgotten her name and had been too embarrassed to mention the fact. We all started chatting amiably, Kitty telling her a bit about her divorce. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Felicity wander up, hover for a few seconds, then go away again. "I saw you were quite drunk," she said later, "So I didn't come up." We weren't drunk; we were relaxed and sociable.

Me and Kitty wandered off again and walked though the grounds, the croquet lawns and the topiary gardens, passing a steel band playing Dancing Queen. "I like it how people can't place us," she said. Later, and more drunk, I said to her "I know we don't... but it feels like having a girlfriend." Having a girlfriend.

We all went back together in Felicity's car. "Shall I drop you at the station Kitty?" "No, it's alright thanks. I'm staying at looby's."

"Well we might have got tanned today," I said, trying to cheer things up. "Not when you're all covered up," came back Felicity. It felt a long sixteen miles home.