I remember Mitch, Michelle Stevens, who’d christened herself with the bitch moniker, we didn’t put that on her. Her close-shaven head resembled a fuzzy bowling ball atop shoulders wider than Duncan’s.

‘Shall we go out and get a bite?’ Faith suggests. ‘Mexican? You can tell me all about Liz’s plan over a strawberry daiquiri.’

‘Yes.’

We’re preparing to leave when Faith’s mobile rings. Her mouth agape, she flashes the caller ID at me: King Neptune. Maximilian Modacious, blockbuster superstar, is calling Faith. I can’t believe she diverts the call to voicemail. Putting her phone on speaker, we listen to the message together.

‘Faith, babe, Maxi Modacious. Sorry I couldn’t make your shoot. I’ve just seen your picture – you and me, woulda been bodacious…’

I burst out laughing.

‘Gracie, shh.’

‘I’m back in London next week, let’s chill. I’ll be at The Met. Call me. Muah!’

‘Let’s chill? Ewwww. And Muah? I’ve never met the guy. Faith puts her phone into her bag. ‘Come on, Gracie. There’s a tequila with our name on it.’

We’re walking out of her flat when her phone rings again. I warn her it’s King Maxi, still trying it on – that this is what happens now she’s put it to the universe that she wants a man who wants to be with her for real.

‘Okay, Gracie the Magnificent,’ she laughs, grabbing her phone.

It’s not Max. It’s Toby.

Faith answers the call without delay.

From her side of the conversation, I gather Toby is returning to London sooner than expected and not just for work. Faith, laughing coyly, tells him of course he can take her spare room. She signals me to sit down and wait.

If Faith wants a man who sticks around, I know who it is she wants. I have no intention of this conversation ending on my account. Blowing her a quick kiss, I slip away.

I’m at her downstairs entrance when Faith, mobile pressed to her ear and giggling, shoves the Rabbit vibrator at me and pushes me out onto Floral street with it firmly in my hand.

Later that evening, I call Liz Martin to ensure I have the details correct and then I talk to Faith and then Robert about The Plan. I’ll get you the details later but suffice to say, Liz’s ingenious scheme will require a) nerves of steel from me and b) participation from both Jordan and Faith, not to mention Pussy Paws.

I’ve just stepped into the shower at home when my landline rings. I rush out of the bathroom to answer it.

‘Hello, Gracie.’

‘Harry? Hi, um, hello. Oh, golly, I’m dripping wet here.’

‘Is that right?’ Harry chuckles suggestively and I feel myself blush even though he can’t see me.

‘I’m wet from the shower.’

‘Shall I let you go?’

‘No, it’s okay.’