Dinah’s face lights up. ‘That’s enough! Good! Let me find you a good, decent holder for us to put them in and you can take them home tonight; I’ll arrange to meet up with you.’ She goes out of the room and comes back with an enormous leather suit carrier. Suits packed, we leave the house before Moss comes back from his swim.

I’ve never personally sold anything at auction because of the steep auction costs. It’s more profitable for me to sell direct. So this is a new experience for me and I have the feeling that this is going to change my relationship with Tallulah Young, because she’ll realise I’m not just somebody who buys cheap lots – I’m a serious dealer. On the other hand … ‘What if Moss—’

‘Forget Moss!’ Dinah says as we wait at the Tube station. She looks so perky and elegant in a little red suit with a white silk blouse and pearl necklace.

She’s quite calm, whereas I’m buzzing. She reaches across suddenly and pulls the sleeve of my PVC raincoat, startling me.

‘This is nice – and the beret, too. Very nice. And the red lipstick. This coat, how long have you had it?’

‘I’ve had it ages.’

‘How much?’

‘Thirty pounds from the Sue Ryder charity shop.’

Dinah nods approvingly, pressing her red lips together. ‘It’s not cheap but also it’s not expensive. Makes you look a little like a hooker, but not too much.’

On the Tube, I notice that she’s taken my advice and she’s wearing flat shoes.

I, on the other hand, have taken her advice and I’m wearing heels.

With a combination of heels and PVC I’m hot and bothered by the time we get to the auction room. I take my coat off, feeling the sweat cool under my arms, which was not the impression I was going for.

We take a seat and wait our turn, the suit carrier spread over our laps. After a short time our names are called and we take the suit carrier over to the table, where Dinah takes her outfits lovingly out of their garment bags. I’m slightly disappointed that it’s not Tallulah Young herself doing the valuation but her assistant, Cathy, a woman with long dark hair who’s briskly efficient at her job. She examines the labels and looks at the suits with forensic thoroughness, holding them up against the light and examining the seams.

Dinah’s playing with her pearls, her nose in the air, her eyes averted, and I wonder if she’s starting to regret it.

‘Are you okay?’ I ask.

‘Perfectly,’ she says. She leans forward and says to Cathy sharply, ‘My husband bought these for me for my birthday.’

‘Lucky you,’ Cathy says, looking inside the sleeves. She examines the camisoles with equal thoroughness.