No thanks, I'm not drinking

Those five little words are enough to raise, heads, eyebrows and expectations in most of the circles I move in.

Not that I'm a particularly heavy drinker, in fact quite the opposite. Before I gave up, I could quite happily go for several days, even a week or two, without an alcoholic beverage passing my lips. I will happily go virgin and take my share of driving duties on visits to boozy events. But when it comes to special occasions, I have never been one to hold back. Birthdays, nights around my parents' with the clan, work nights out... These days they are not so common as perhaps four or five years ago, so a few bevys has always been very much in order.

Giving up alcohol is not difficult for me, in that I've done it for the last two years at Lent and it was a breeze. It's just the explaining why I'm not drinking that is more challenging. I am rubbish at lying or even at evading the truth. And certain people have started to catch on. I think two of my best friends know I've given up the drink, and why, along with my mum. But I have already had a few questions...

My dad took me out for a late birthday meal in October. He seemed quite puzzled by the fact I wasn't drinking, especially as we walked there and he was paying - but I have always had periods when I didn't bother with a glass of wine with dinner so he brushed it aside. But a few weeks later, my brother made a rare visit down south so the whole family was back together and went down the local pub. Fortunately, this is somewhere you have to drive to, so I volunteered to drive everyone. But when we got back chez mum and dad, and the party continued, and I still wasn't drinking, he asked me why I wasn't drinking, and if I intended to drink again. I vaguely said something about health reasons. He was pretty drunk, so I reckon he probably bought it. At the same time, my sis was loudly telling everyone how good I was for driving, I suspect without realising any of the reasoning.

Then I went for dinner at a friend's in the middle of deepest darkest Wiltshire this weekend. We hadn't seen each other in months - and she was totally flummoxed by the lack of booze - and did think it might mean something. But I told her not to read anything into it, and that I was fed up with having horrible hangovers. Which is certainly true.

So far, I have been able to brush all this aside. But we are coming up to party season - everyone will be expecting drunkenness at various events. A gang of friends are getting together in a couple of weeks for a raucous celebration - I think it unikely no-one will notice and comment beyond those in the know. I am missing my work party, but there are bound to work drinks. And then there is my best friend's hen party - I reckon I can talk my way out of that one as I will be officially looking after the chief hen. But not drinking at her wedding in January? Very odd, people will say.

The thing is, I don't have anything to hide, not yet. But equally, I'm not about to be totally up front about what my plans are because it could be a long, long time before I have anything to show for it, even a teensy little bump. And I especially wouldn't want it to become a topic at work for all the reasons that women already struggle in the labour market.

Oh well, I guess at the very least it means this festive season will be rather cheaper than it customarily is - I will just have to try not to make up for the lack of booze with cheese and chocolates.

That said, there's a tasty-looking demi pont l'eveque in the fridge with my name on it....