She looked around, acknowledging familiar faces, greeting people she did not specially want to see with an enthusiasm she certainly did not feel. The hash was beginning to get to her and she felt calm, benevolent in her attitude towards the surrounding throng as she negotiated her way across the room in search of the bar and somewhere to sit. She sank into an armchair and leaned back against the cushions, surveying the room through half-closed eyes. It was then that she saw him. He was standing close to a window, tanned and very blond, his face alight with intelligence and interest as he listened to what the girl opposite him was trying to say above the din. Camilla stood up abruptly, slightly off balance, spilling her drink. Her only thought was to leave immediately, before he noticed her. She bent to retrieve her handbag, but when she straightened he was standing in front of her.

‘Are you leaving?’ he asked. ‘I’ll come with you.’

‘Stay away from me,’ Camilla said, putting out a hand to stop him. She made her way through the room and clattered down the stairs, snatching her coat and stumbling out into the wet night. There were no taxis in sight and she started to walk towards the King’s Road, anger welling as she heard his footsteps behind her.

‘Didn’t you hear me?’ she said. ‘Stay away from me. Just go away.’

‘I must talk to you,’ he said, putting out a hand in an attempt to detain her.

‘No. Get right away from me.’ She stopped and turned, hissing the words at him. ‘The very sight of you is making me ill.’

‘And you’re making your father ill,’ he said. ‘Don’t you know that he cares about you more than anyone? You’re destroying him. I wish he loved me half as much.’ He grabbed her arm and shook her. ‘For God’s sake, don’t you understand anything at all except your own superficial life?’

‘Don’t touch me, or come near me. I want nothing to do with you.’ Camilla quickened her pace so that she was running ahead of him along the slick pavement. A taxi passed and she lifted her arm, but in the film of rain the driver did not see her and the cab sped away into a side street.

‘Come back, for Christ’s sake.’ He had caught up with her again. ‘Please. We have to talk.’

Camilla stopped. ‘No. We don’t ever need to talk. And I don’t want to see you or hear from you again.’

‘Please,’ he said. ‘You really must listen. You—’