“What the hell business is it of yours?” she grumbled as she poured milk on her cereal and perched on a stool at the breakfast bar. If she was always this charming first thing in the evening, it wasn’t so surprising that Jett preferred to wake up alone.

“You can always tell good breeding,” I said airily. “Plebs like me, we can never aspire to the courtesy of the moneyed classes.”

To my surprise, she spluttered with laughter, spraying the worktop with gobbets of coconut matting. “OK, I’m sorry, Kate,” she conceded. It was the first time I’d seen a side of her that explained why Jett had put up with her for more than five minutes. “I’m always a complete shit until I’ve had something to eat. I think I get

“So what’s the daughter of a baronet doing among the Neanderthals, then?” I asked, trying to pick up the tone of her own remarks. Richard’s background info was still coming in handy.

She gave an ironic smile. “Depends who you want to believe. According to my mother, I’m indulging in a belated teenage rebellion, having a bit of rough before I settle down. According to the lovely Gloria, I’m a gold-digger who likes having her name linked in the gossip columns with Jett. According to Kevin, I was useful in the early days because I kept Jett amused, but now I’m a pain because we keep rowing.”

“And according to you?”

“Me? I’m still here because I’m crazy about the guy. I’ll admit that when I first met him, I thought he might be fun to play with for a while. But that changed. In a matter of days, that changed. I’m here because I love him and I want to make it work. In spite of all the efforts of his so-called friends to put a spanner in the works,” she added, with an edge of bitterness that nullified the light tone of her earlier remarks.

“Was Moira one of those?” I asked, getting up to make myself some coffee.

She nodded. “In spades. Sorry, an unfortunate turn of phrase, but maybe not so inaccurate. She treated me like a brainless bimbo to the point where I felt like having my degree framed and hung on my door. Did you know I have an upper second in modern languages from Exeter?” she asked defensively. I waved an empty mug at Tamar and she nodded. “Black, one sugar. Moira seemed to think that since I wasn’t a black, working-class musician then I could have nothing to offer Jett. It was ironic. She didn’t want him any more, but she was damned if she was going to let anyone else be part of his life.”