My jaw is officially on the floor. I will never get used to this strange, incestuous world of the super-rich. They all seem to know each other. It’s seriously weird. But I allow Brendan to tug me through a door by the stage. When he drops his name, we’re waved on. It seems “Santi” is expecting us.

By the time we enter Santiago’s dressing room, I have serious butterflies in my stomach. This man is a living legend. I don’t know how many times I’ve played his album Reflections in various hospital wards over the years. Sometimes, his voice is the only thing that calms my soul. But in the flesh he’s all white teeth and devastating, black-eyed charm, his lean, rangy body shown to elegant perfection in a black shirt and black suit.

‘Sullivan!’ he shouts, jumping to his feet at the sight of us. ‘Mate, it is so good to see you.’ They hug and slap each other’s backs before Santiago pulls away and flashes me his gorgeous smile. He broke hearts everywhere when he announced that he was marrying his family’s chef. ‘And you must be Marlowe,’ he says with a wink. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’

Before I can even speak, he grabs me and kisses me on both cheeks.

‘I’m such a huge fan,’ I stammer. ‘I really am.’

Brendan grins at me. ‘I think I’m getting jealous.’

‘I’m delighted to hear you’re a fan,’ Santiago drawls, ‘because I hear you and I are doing a little number out there tonight.’

Ithink I may have fainted. That’s the only explanation for my hallucination. I stare blankly at Santiago.

‘I asked him to invite you up to sing with him later,’ Brendan explains in a kindly voice, like I’m a dim-witted toddler.

I. Am. Mortified.

‘No you didn’t. You did not.’

‘He did,’ Santiago tells me cheerfully. ‘He said you’re amazing. And classically trained. You trained at King’s College, correct?’

‘Yes, but—’ I have to make him understand. ‘I’m out of practice, Santiago. I haven’t performed for years, and even then, only as a student. I⁠—’

Santiago cuts me off smoothly. ‘Call me Santi. I thought we could sing Summertime together. Everyone likes a bit of Gershwin on a warm evening, even if we are stuck indoors. Don’t worry, we’re going to rehearse it right now.’ He gestures at the piano.

If I were a multi-platinum-selling artist and my mate was suggesting I bring some random woman on stage to sing with me, I’d be freaking out. But not Santiago. Santi.

Oh my God, what is this rabbit hole I’ve fallen down?

Brendan doesn’t stop grinning as Santi leads me over to the upright piano and opens a Porgy and Bess sheet music book.