By the time I found Charlie in the room they called The Library (no books that I could see, but a few very drunk actors attempting to read the over-priced wine list), I was thoroughly unnerved. With every hobble, Alex’s shadow stepped beside me, until I was almost pleased to see the very real Charlie. He was looking kinglike  though hardly regal in a great leather armchair, his hooded eyes half-shut against the smoke from his inevitable cigar as he browsed through the latest issue of Broadcast. Only his man-tan gave him away. Just the wrong side of classy.

‘Fantastic pic, don’t you think, darling?’ He flicked open the industry paper to show off a photo of himself and Renee smiling sickeningly at one another.

‘DOUBLE-DECKER PAIR CELEBRATE RECOMMISSION OF RATINGS WINNER’, the headline declared.

‘It’d be funny if they found out her name was really Enid, wouldn’t it?’ I mused, reaching for the glass of Krug Charlie had just poured.

He frowned. ‘Would it?’

I met his eye. ‘I think so.’ Images of Alex still floated through my mind. I tried to concentrate. ‘So, what are we celebrating?’

‘I’d say that was obvious, darling, wouldn’t you?’ Charlie really was looking spectacularly orange today. He must have bumped up his shares in St Tropez. ‘So, when can we expect you in the office?’

‘Soon.’ I took such an enormous sip the bubbles shot straight up my nose.

‘Fantastic.’ He ran a hand through his hair, his signet ring glinting under the light. ‘How soon? It has been almost five months now, my darling.’

The champagne hit the spot. I forgot Alex for a moment; I smiled. ‘Oh, you know. Very soon.’

‘Soon enough for this?’ He flung a folder into my lap. Doing Me Wrong: You’re Dumped, heralded the title page.

‘What’s this?’

‘Fantastic idea, darling. You’ll love it. It can be your victorious return to form.’ He relit his cigar. ‘The idea is the opposite of the “Proposal on-air” show. This is the “You’re Dumped on-air” show.’

I stared at him. ‘You’re joking, right?’

He toasted me, then knocked the drink back in one and poured again. ‘Darling, I don’t joke, you know that. It’s a fantastic idea. If it takes off, it’ll be the talk of the town.’

‘Charlie, this is not what we agreed.’ An icy sweat broke out across my forehead; the champagne and cigar smoke combining to make me feel suddenly quite sick. ‘You said that if I –’

‘I know what I said, darling. But look, I’m sure it was one of your ideas anyway. From the summer. You knew the deal then.’

Confused, I stood up – rather too suddenly. Charlie caught my crutch neatly in his orange hand.

‘For God’s sake, Charlie.’ I grabbed it from him. ‘You’re completely reneging on –’