Meanwhile in The Independent John Walsh goes behind the scenes...
After, everyone piled across London to Soho, where the after-show parties had been underway since 9pm. Seasoned literary liggers who weren't invited to the Booker dinner knew the order in which to go. Start with the Faber party (publishers of Sebastian Barry and Kazuo Ishiguro) at the Union Club because they have the best canapés, and move on to the Cape party (for Julian Barnes) at Soho House. When - horrors! - Barnes was denied the prize, they departed, like bats from Hades, and made for The Groucho, where the Picador party for Banville was yards from the Penguin thrash for Ali and Zadie Smith.
By 11.30pm, when Banville arrived to loud cheers, The Groucho Club was heaving. Despite Zadie Smith being the book world's current darling, her party was apparently "blowing tumbleweeds" according to one reveller. It would seem that everyone prefers a winner.
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