‘We’re trying to be friendly, but don’t worry Joanna canned Carlos, and it’s not like I have a plethora of men to step in. Jordan gets professional kudos at his office in attending. It’s really just another friendly business arrangement, like the Pussy Paws shoot. That’s all.’

‘Well, I’m sure it will give Jordan pause to think about what he’s lost regardless – look at you now, Gracie,’ Faith says. ‘Tonight, the world is your oyster.’

There was a time it wasn’t. I’m grateful for the experiences that shaped me. They made me stronger. They made me love myself and my life so fiercely that now I know how to show others how to do it. It reset the bar – never again will I allow anyone, including myself, to treat me with less than I deserve. Love. Care. Acceptance. That’s the bar.

‘Look at me now,’ I say, beyond joy.

Faith beams.

‘Miss Gracie, what about poor Carlos? Was he very upset at getting dumped?’

‘I wouldn’t say he was dumped, Poppy. But when we spoke, Carlos seemed to understand the circumstance. He left me a garbled message sometime in the middle of last night and he sounded fine.’ In his message, Carlos was still anxious about me arriving without his escort, and might have mentioned something about his new suit, but what with his indecipherable English and my non-existent Spanish, it’s difficult to know. He certainly didn’t sound cross. ‘Poppy, let’s not forget, he scored an expensive Tom Ford suit on me for his trouble.’

‘It is a very nice suit,’ Poppy agrees, letting me off the hook.

Faith strokes Benny at the windowsill. ‘I’ll walk the red carpet with you,’ she says. ‘I’ll meet Toby inside.’

‘Can we do it together?’ Poppy asks. ‘Lucy could go in with Toby, if that’s all right with you, Faith?’

Unable to discriminate between her many friends, family members and buddies – and spurred on by a publicity-savvy Joanna – Poppy invited Lucy the lesbian as her date for the TIARAs.

‘Of course,’ Faith says. ‘How can we not do this together?’

A white limousine arrives to convey us the short distance from Covent Garden to Mayfair. Various roads are blocked for the occasion and the streets are lined with onlookers. We pull up near Grosvenor House.

On what has turned into a cool and blowy spring afternoon, it’s perfect weather for a trouser suit. Within minutes, we’re making our way down the red carpet. With me in the middle, we glide along the corridor of cameras and microphones as though we’re old hands at this celebrity business.

Flash, click. ‘Yes, we are the best of friends,’ I say, in answer into a reporter’s microphone. We walk on.

Flash, click. Shoulders back, tummy in and smiiiiiile. ‘Thank you. Yes, it was a brave move, wearing a suit. I’m delighted you love it.’