Skirting the edge of the room, not daring to clock how many guests observe me moving towards the disturbance, I make my way to him as quickly as possible.

‘Crazie.’ Carlos waves his piece of paper, the photocopy of the TIARA invitation I’d given him at the studio. ‘He say no good. Es good, sí? Carlos with Crazie. Sí?’

‘Lady, is he with you?’ asks an angry security guard who, like Gordon, bears a remarkable resemblance to Duncan.

‘Well, it’s a funny thing, really,’ I begin to explain.

‘Crazie give to me, Carlos. I am Carlos,’ Carlos continues to rant.

‘Yes, he’s with me. I’m sorry for the trouble. I, um, lost the original invitation. And… oh, thank you kindly,’ I say, as security steps aside. ‘Thank you so much.’

A vision in silver, Carlos bounds up and clasps me to him. Fumbling, he attaches a pink carnation to my lapel. It comes complete with a tiny fondant of fern and smells like it’s been sprayed with toilet freshener.

‘Es nice?’ Carlos asks, stepping back admiringly.

I don’t have the heart to disappoint him.

I look over to where my mother is waiting, staring at us with some alarm.

Jordan is approaching her.

As for my conversation with Harry… I want to circle back on that.

They’re all here – Harry, Jordan, Carlos and my mother. By my own hand, it’s one almighty Freudian slip.

Now, what do I do?

35

Amid hushed whispers, Harry appears at my side. As the room returns to its own business, he escorts Carlos over to Poppy and consigns him to her care. With a grin as wide as an ocean, he asks me what the devil I’ve been up to now.

It’s my chance to explain that I invited Jordan here as a friend, and as a last resort, having tried to cancel Carlos – and the subsequent miscommunications with both him and my mother. Harry dissolves in hysterics. Then, as usual, he sorts out everything for me.

Sending Bip and Ban happily off with a wad of cash, he creates a space for my mother, and Carlos, to join him at the SC6 table. To avoid a further scene, he arranges alternate seating for Jordan and me away from them all.

It’s not what I’d like to be happening – and I hope I make this clear.

Given the options, it beats spending the evening wedged between two exes, in front of my mother and him, cameras rolling.

For a while, Harry is busy dashing back and forth between us. For all his chivalry, he doesn’t revisit our earlier conversation. By the time everyone is ushered inside to be seated for the awards, I haven’t had the chance to raise it with him.

Jordan and I make our way to a table four back from the others, where none of the guests we’re seated with are recognisable.