‘I thought you said Zeus was renovating?’ said Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth, pulling swathes of fabric out of a suitcase. ‘I’ve designed this whole concept around silver chiffon—’

‘Asked, huh?’ said Zeus, plumping down on to his golden chair. ‘You always were a manipulative old baggage.’

‘Well, seeing as we’re all here now, we might as well have something to eat my lovelies,’ said Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, ladling a massive stew into golden bowls.

‘Not for me,’ said a slender, pale-faced figure, pulling out a chair carved with vine leaves. ‘I’m detoxing.’

‘Dionysus?’ said Zeus, peering down the table. ‘Is that you? I hardly recognized you. You’re wasting away.’

‘Hi, Dad,’ said the God of Wine quietly. ‘Yeah, I’ve been trying to take better care of myself. I’ve cut out nectar, wheat, dairy, fat, carbs, sugar, salt and meat.’

‘Mate!’ said Hermes, flying over for a fist-bump. ‘You must feel, like, totes epic.’

‘Yeah,’ murmured Dionysus, feebly returning the gesture. ‘Never better.’

‘Tally ho!’ cried the Goddess of the Hunt galloping into the room on a dappled charger, followed by her twin brother, the God of Music.

‘Artemis! Apollo!’ cried Zeus warmly.

‘Sorry we’re late. Had another row with the neighbours,’ huffed Artemis, rolling her eyes and nearly knocking her riding hat off her head. ‘Apparently, they’ve been complaining about my Sunday hunts.’

‘What’s the problem?’ asked Aphrodite.

‘Well, for one thing, they don’t run fast enough,’ said Artemis. ‘My hounds can catch that pensioner from number thirty-six in no time.’

She snorted a laugh, slapping her riding crop against her jodhpurs, which stuck out from her ample hips like wings on a spitfire.

‘OK, Sis. So, on the one hand I totally respect that you’re a hunting Goddess and really dig chasing animals and stuff,’ said Apollo, whose long grey hair was tied back beneath a rainbow-coloured bandana, ‘but on the other it is, like, totally senseless murder.’

‘Pah! Pish and nonsense!’ shouted Artemis. ‘The animals enjoy it. Fresh air, exercise—’

‘Maybe not the whole, like, grizzly death bit, dude,’ said Apollo.

‘Lovely to see you all!’ waved Zeus from the end of the table as Hades quietly joined the group and took his place. ‘Now, I think that’s everyone.’

‘Ares!’ shouted out Aphrodite suddenly. Everyone stopped to look at the blushing Goddess of Love.

‘I mean, Ares . . . isn’t here – yet. That’s all,’ said Aphrodite, failing to look casual. ‘Not that I care . . .’

‘You’re not going to start all that up again, are you?’ Athene warned her sister. ‘You two are a bigger disaster than that blusher.’

‘As if,’ said Aphrodite. ‘That’s all behind us. I’m a mature woman now. Ares and I are just friends.’

‘You always say that. And it always has a horrible end.’

‘Just like you in your skinny jeans,’ pouted Aphrodite, slumping back in her chair.