Hoody leered. ‘I ’spect they’re from a secret admirer.’

I’d just spent ten minutes easing my tracksuit bottoms over my bad foot only to realise I’d put them on the wrong way round when the doorbell pealed again. I scraped my frankly filthy hair back off my face as someone insistently held the bell down.

‘Have patience for the cripple,’ I muttered, reaching for the banister, Digby nearly unbalancing me as he went scurrying between my feet. I plucked the door back before the bell could sound again.

‘Did you find out who the flowers were from?’

My heart jolted painfully in my chest. ‘Oh!’

It was Fay, swaddled in glossy fake fur.

‘Surprise!’ she breezed. ‘I just came to see how you are,’ and then she was in, dipping under my arm, into my father’s house. Uninvited. Digby skittered behind my legs. ‘Coward,’ I muttered at him.

‘Amazing flowers,’ she called, already in the kitchen where I’d earlier shoved the bouquet into the sink. ‘New boyfriend?’

‘No.’ I hobbled after her, trying to keep up. ‘No. I haven’t got a – look, actually, Fay –’

‘Are you still single?’ she breathed, swinging round, her big eyes all compassion. ‘Oh well. We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?’

‘Will we?’ I asked foolishly.

She smiled patiently.

‘Fay,’ I was as polite as I could be, ‘it’s just – I’m just wondering, how did you know where I lived?’

‘Oh, you know.’

‘Well, no, I don’t really.’

She affected thought, one small finger resting childlike on her pointy chin. ‘Do you know, I can’t remember now. From the hospital I think.’

I frowned. ‘What, they just gave out my address? Just like that?’

‘Oh no, maybe not.’ A shrug of her delicate little shoulders. Her coat fell open to reveal a rather inappropriate dress. Lacy. A lot of flesh. I looked away. ‘Maybe from Renee Reveals.’

‘I mean – I don’t even live here normally. I live –’ It suddenly seemed unimportant. ‘I did live near Borough Market,’ I trailed off miserably. ‘This is my dad’s house.’

‘Oh, Borough Market’s fabulous, isn’t it? So olde-worlde.’ She pronounced the ‘e’s like ‘y’s. ‘Lucky you. They’ve asked me back, you know.’

I gazed at her.

‘The show.’ Her eyes were gleaming.

My heart sank further. ‘Oh, have they?’ I leaned heavily against the table. My foot was really hurting now. ‘Great. Good for you.’

Fay was pacing round the kitchen, picking everything up and giving it a quick but thorough examination. ‘I know – brilliant, isn’t it? Told you it was the start of something huge.’ She had my mother’s picture in her hand now, the photo of her pregnant with me, ripe as a peach, her titian hair tumbling over her smocked paisley shoulders, serene and smiling fit to burst.

‘Sorry, Fay, would you mind –’