A great believer in the power of networking

Marie-Astrid's dinner party. Because it started early I drove there straight from work (still managing to be the last to arrive). At least this time I remembered where her house was, and didn't have to drive around trying to find it.

I parked my car on the crowded front drive (the house was on a quiet suburban-type tree-lined street) and went into the house (the front door was open) and then through to the back garden where I could see people standing about. Originally Marie-Astrid intended to hold the dinner in her garden (moving the dining table and chairs out onto the lawn) but because of the risk of rain it was relocated into the conservatory. The garden consisted of a big square of grass with long wide flowerbeds on three sides (not a huge number of plants, but the beds were completely free of weeds). The fourth side of the square was formed by the conservatory which ran along the whole back of the house, French windows wide open. On the lawn were a number of chunky brightly-coloured Little Tikes children's play equipment (motor car, sand pit, slide - Marie-Astrid's daughter played on these items together with the son of one of the other guests). Low fences separated the garden from its neighbours, and I could see other people sitting on deckchairs, mowing the lawn, even three houses down holding a barbecue, all blithely indifferent to our gathering.

There were five other guests, including Marie-Astrid's ex-husband (also called Andrew) who was dressed in Bermuda shorts and polo shirt (collar turned up) and looked as if he had been invited on the spur of the moment (possibly he had been bringing the daughter round as he lives a short distance away and they share custody). He was an amiable northern bloke, a little on the short side, wiry build, short sandy-coloured hair. There was nothing about him that seemed so terrible, but the other guests didn't really talk to him, and most of the time he chatted to his three-year-old daughter.

Apart from Marie-Astrid there were four other women at the dinner. They were aged in their early thirties, and three of them had made a considerable effort to dress up (one of them bringing clothes to the house and changing in an upstairs bedroom), but they all appeared to be a bit dowdy in appearance. All the women were divorced, and knew Marie-Astrid through their work.

The woman who wasn't dressed-up was of the type known as "earth mother" and wore plain clothes and no make-up - the only accessory she wore was a white Make Poverty History wristband. She talked about going to the Glastonbury festival in a double-decker 'bus. When it started to rain later she took off her shoes and went to walk barefoot on the wet grass.

The other three included a jovial PA who worked for a hospital trust - she was a little overweight, very good natured, described in detail a visit to Hampton Court Palace. There was also a fussy local government officer (something to do with Employment) who wore glasses and was very interested in travelling and the arts - she seemed to have an endless store of anecdotes, and her main objective during the evening seemed to be trumping whatever the earth mother said (her holidays were more extravagant, her interest in Shakespeare more meaningful, her children more talented - I could sense the hostility between the two growing palpably). The last guest was a regional director for a charity, fashionably dressed, well-groomed, exuding a superior air of professional discretion (this may sound unfair but I thought she was the sort of person who would invite you to make confidences, and then betray you without giving it a thought).

Very few plants in the conservatory (apart from a big palm). The dining table filled one end, and we sat round it comfortably spaced and without feeling cramped. Marie-Astrid had placed lots of little candles (in small glasses) along the length of the window ledge, and as the light faded these formed the only lighting. The food was all vegetarian, and very good (I didn't notice the absence of meat). Wine was available, but everyone chose the fruit juice to drink (in deference to Marie-Astrid's sensibilities). The pace of the meal was very leisurely, and it was eleven o'clock before we finished.

Marie-Astrid holds these dinners because she is a great believer in the power of networking. She is always keen to meet new people, and is continuously expanding her circle of useful acquaintances. I know I ought to do the same, but I find this kind of socialising very hard work.