I head to the Ladies’. Inside, I’m surprised to see the girls are in here. As in the twins, but not really twins, are here in the loos, and not gone with Harry at all.

‘Gracie,’ they exclaim, inexplicably pleased to see me. ‘We thought you’d left!’

‘Me too,’ I say, stumbling on these heeled boots. I only narrowly grab onto a washbasin to save myself from falling. ‘I mean, I thought you’d left. And, er, Harry?’

‘Only Harry left.’ They smile gorgeously. ‘We’re still here.’

‘Yes. I see.’

‘He’ll be back later,’ says the shorter one.

‘He had a call from a client, he had to get something from his office. He’ll be back before midnight, he said.’

I reacquaint myself with the pedestal, my head spinning with thoughts and also the alcohol.

‘Anyway, he wouldn’t leave for the night without saying goodbye to you, Gracie.’

‘Oh, no. Harry is always going on about you.’

Two pairs of heavily made-up eyes focus on me. I make a major effort to focus back.

‘You mean, Harry is always talking about the show?’ I ask, trying to sound casual.

At the washbasins, a girl who doesn’t recognise me – or perhaps she does – rolls her eyes.

‘That’s right,’ the girls agree eagerly.

‘Because Harry is my agent,’ I suggest.

‘He doesn’t go on about his other clients the way he does you.’

Harry hasn’t mentioned the girls to me once.

‘Oh yes, Harry talks about you all the time.’

‘We think he’s quite infatuated…’

‘Yes!’

It dawns on me that it’s scarcely their fault these girls are so porn-star-like attractive. They seem genuinely lovely.

‘I’m so drunk,’ I say.

‘Oh, do you fancy, a little, you know…’ Nodding towards an empty cubicle, the shorter girl pulls at her silver dress and slides her hand inside her bra. Her silicone breast bobs up and, for a split second, exposes a pink nipple. Before I embarrass myself and decline what I interpret as her offer of a quick fondle in the cubicles, she extracts a small paper wrap and whispers, ‘You know… for a line.’

‘Oh, a line,’ I gasp, hoping she didn’t notice me noticing her nipple. ‘Um, a line of what, exactly?’

‘Cocaine.’

‘We don’t do speed.’

‘Speed is for peasants.’

‘Yes, of course,’ I agree, having never tried either.

The girls step inside the empty cubicle. One begins racking up white powder on the top of the cistern as the other stands guard at the door.

‘Do you want some, Gracie?’

The girls beckon me to join them.

I’m keen to hear more about Harry’s apparent infatuation with me.

I’m very drunk, and rather intrigued.

I’ve heard cocaine is sobering.

‘Girls, since you ask,’ I say, ‘I’d like to try.’

19