‘Would you like to get dressed first?’

‘I have a towel.’

‘Now I’m distracted...’

‘I presume you’ve called for something other than to talk dirty to me, Harry?’

We’re getting on well again, and this rolls off my tongue. Importantly, I know, it doesn’t mean anything – all this harmless flirting between us. We’ve become firm friends, Harry and me.

‘Gracie, I’ve just finished an interesting conversation with Liz Martin. I’m up to speed on The Plan.’

I’d sent a text asking Harry to speak with Liz directly. Liz, bless her, had offered to do so.

‘Will it work, Harry?’ Liz’s plan is brilliant. But it’s bold.

‘I’ve no doubt about it,’ Harry says, to my great relief. ‘Is Faith on board?’

‘Faith’s on board.’

‘Have you spoken with Jordan?’

Things may be getting on a great new track with me and Harry, but I still feel uncomfortable talking about Jordan with him. I haven’t spoken to Jordan since I crashed his cocktail party and discovered he’s seeing Rhiannon.

‘I’ve spoken with Robert, and he talked to Jordan, I understand they’re waiting on the go-ahead from Pussy Paws. Robert believes we’re on track.’

‘Let me know if I can help? I’m here for you, Gracie. Not just with the show, but also for you. It’s a package deal.’

‘I know, Harry,’ I say. ‘You’re wonderful. You know that?’

‘I try. You’re still wearing the towel?’

I look down. A nipple has strayed out over the top of my wrapped-around towel. ‘Yes.’ I cover my breasts properly.

‘In which case, I have to go. The thought of you in a towel is too distracting.’

My towel falls to the floor. ‘You’re a tease, Harry. But fine, you toddle off.’

Harry is silent for just that little bit too long.

‘I’ve never teased you. If I gave you that impression, it wasn’t my intention. I think you’re wonderful, too.’

What is Harry saying?

What does he mean?

Whatever hopes creep into my mind, I dash them promptly. Harry can lavish on me all the funny, smutty, complimentary lines as he likes, but I’m not letting myself get carried away on nothing but banter. Not again.

‘You remind me that conversations with you can easily stray, Harry.’

Harry laughs heartily. ‘A little birdie told me they saw you in the West End carrying a vibrator?’

‘Oh my God, Harry. Faith gave me that. She got it from Lucy. Who is your little birdie?’

‘No one who will cause you any trouble of it,’ he assures me. ‘By the way, speaking of vibrators, Oral B want to sponsor your show. Ben the dentist may be part of the deal.’