‘On my birthday, if you must know . . . my birthday three years ago. It was like being ravaged by a tree sloth. The only frickin’ physical contact I get these days is checking my breasts for lumps. It’s got so bad I look forward to my bloody mammogram. There, are you happy now?’

‘Happy? I’m jealous,’ Amber groaned. Her mouth was a calligrapher’s thin line. ‘Look, as we’re being honest with each other . . . I lied about my marriage too. It’s hard, hard work. Most days I feel as though I’m stirring wet cement with my eyelashes.’

‘What do you mean?’ Emerald slurred, reaching for my Slippery Nipple and downing the dregs.

‘You didn’t tell her?’ Amber asked me, scrutinising my face for signs of sincerity.

‘Of course not! I never tell either one of you what the other says. I keep all your secrets. It’s bloody exhausting! The real secret, as far as I’m concerned, is why the secret to a happy marriage is such a well-kept bloody secret,’ I quipped, but neither sister was listening to me, so intent were they on each other.

‘Remember when I got mugged at the ATM by the train station?’ Amber confessed. ‘And the thug threatened to break my legs? My first thought was Great! I won’t be able to have sex . . . Don’t gloat, okay?’

‘Gloat? I’m jealous. Mum always made us believe that the male libido was an untameable beast: that sex was all men wanted. Well, now sex is all I want. Why did I ever say no? I can’t believe all the cock I batted away in my youth. My husband told me that he loves me, but he just doesn’t find me attractive anymore. Do you know how that makes me feel?’ Emerald screwed up her eyes as if in pain. ‘Am I so repulsive?’

‘No!’ Amber and I said in unison.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ I added.

‘Thanks, but I still want to enrol in a rejection course, except I’m scared I’ll get rejected from that too. A bit of flirtation will do me good.’

The entertainment officer interrupted my sisters’ disclosures to announce round two. ‘And now, ladeeezzz, the category you’ve all been waiting for: underwear modelling! Okay, dudes – Versace are looking for their next David Gandy and Channing Tatum. Are you ready to strut your sexy stuff? Then suck it in and push it out! Let’s go!’

As the Village People’s ‘Macho Man’ erupted from the speakers, the contestants turned the pool edge into a catwalk, sashaying, posing, dancing and prancing.