Emily is on the kitchen

Emily is on the kitchen with her boyfriend Greg, a tall, gawky boy who is in some awe O Ralph. They are squatting on their haunches, peering into the oven through its glass door, at the meatloaf which Emily has prepared for supper.
Ralph suppresses a belch.
'Yeah,' says Emily, in a slightly insolent drawl.

He is about Ralph's age, a little stouter, with a red leathery complexion and big hands. In the hairy tweed sports jacket he favours he looks more like a farmer than a doctor. He pushes, presses, probes with his big spatulate fingers. 'All right ,' he says. 'You can put your togs back on? He goes back to his desk to write some notes in Ralph's file, using a gold-nibbed fountain pen.'You've got a lump on your liver'

Ralph gives Hope a hug in the hall, sweeping her off her feet and whirling her round on the black-and-white-chequered floor. The child laughs with glee. Then he kisses Carrie and looks at her. Ralph waits until Hope has scampered off to her room to be reunited with her favourite dolls and toys
From the book 'Thinks' by David Lodge

It is the evening of Ralph’s birthday party.

Helen has arrived early, by prior arrangement, to help with the food preparations. Most of the serious food – the poached whole salmon, the famous cured ham on the bone, the variegated salads – had been supplied by a local catering firm, and it is already laid out in the dining room beside stacks of plates and sets of cutlery wrapped in thick paper napkins. But Carrie likes to prepare her own canapés. Helen has been entrusted with the task of chopping and slicing crudités for the savoury dips. Carrie herself is peeling fresh prawns and impaling them in toothpicks, separated by cubes of ripe pimiento, like miniature sish kebabs. In the large square hall, with its floor of black and white flags, a table has been placed to serve as a bar, with bottles of red and white wine arranged in two symmetrical phalanges, separated by a large tray of gleaming wine glasses. Shortly after Ralph has left the kitchen the two women hear the regular pop1 pop! of corks being pulled with the aid of the screwpull . More distantly the strains of cool instrumental jazz percolate from the hi-fi in the drawing room, where Emily is placing little bowls of nuts and pretzels in strategic places. The Messengers are experienced party-givers and everyone knows their function and how to perform it. The front doorbell rings.
‘The first guest’, says Helen, superfluously.
From the book ?thinks? by David Lodge

Monday 17th of March

Monday 17th of March. Another weekend has passed in thrall to the Messengers.
It had been agreed that I would stay the night after the party on Saturday, so that I could drink without worrying about driving myself home. I felt a little self-conscious, standing beside Ralph and Carrie in the hall and saying goodbye to the last departing guests, as if I were part of the family – but that is what In seem to have become.
‘Adopted’, was Jasper Richmond’s word. It was somewhat disturbed by its remarks, but he’s a rather malicious gossip, and probably everything he says should be taken with a pinch of salt. If Carrie is being nice to me just to keep tans on Ralph, it seems a risk strategy. He's already managed to kiss me once, and would have done again on Saturday night if I’d let him.
After the final stragglers had gone. I helped collect the soiled plates and glasses from various rooms on the ground floor, and to stack them in the kitchen ready for the domestic help, who was coming in next morning specially to attend to them. Carrie made us a delicious nightcap, and we sat round the kitchen table sipping this concoction and discussing the higklights of the party before we retired to bed.

From the book ?Thinks', by David Lodge