‘Don’t tell her!’ Molly put up a silencing hand. ‘Darling, this is a present from me and Derek – we’re so grateful. I’ve had such fun and he’s had such peace and quiet. Buying you a dress is the least we can do.’

‘But it’s not the least you have done! You’ve already…’

‘That was all boring stuff; this is fun.’ Molly dismissed the matter of cost with an airy wave. ‘Now, Caro, what have you got for me to wear?’

The three photographer friends who, unlike Magenta, hadn’t had a hand in her present existence, arrived halfway through Saturday afternoon. Fortunately, when they saw Rory, the work and the space, Thea didn’t have to spend too long convincing them she’d made the right decision about her life at last.

‘Magenta told us the work was fantastic. She didn’t say anything about Rory,’ said one.

‘She only saw the slides of his work, not him,’ Thea explained. ‘We spent all day looking for him, but I didn’t come across him until after she’d gone off to the beauty parlour.’

‘Foolish Magenta! I think this is a great gallery and much better for you than being a landlady. I bet those students walked all over you.’

Petal, who was running a cloth over the skirting boards – her gesture to manual work – was within earshot and she looked up indignantly.

‘Well, some of them did. Not you, Petal, of course.’

Petal made a face. Unlike her aunt, she knew when Thea was being sarcastic or making a joke.

The photographers set up their equipment and snapped happily. They all took conventional photographs of the work, and roll after roll of film of Rory, Petal and Thea doing things.

‘Did I tell you that a journalist pal is arriving soon? She wants to do an article about you for one of the gossip mags.’

‘Oh, my God! All I need now is for someone to tell me that the Sunday Sport are coming to photograph me and Rory topless. I think everyone else has already been in touch.’

‘That would be fine by me,’ said Rory, who had climbed down from the ladder where he had been posing. ‘I like the idea of Thea topless in front of one of me daubs.’

‘Well there are going to be pictures of your pecs all over the press,’ said Thea. ‘Satisfy yourself with that thought.’

‘Seriously,’ Magenta put in. ‘You should be really grateful for all this publicity. It’s not easy to get and it’s very hard to get started without it.’

‘It was Ben,’ said Molly proudly. ‘He arranged it all.’

‘Who’s Ben?’ asked one of the women.

‘He’s connected to one of the London galleries,’ Magenta said, protecting Thea from probing questions. ‘Bloody useful, too.’