‘Faith, what are you talking about?’

I know she’s talking about Harry. I’ve not dared mention to her I may be developing a crush on our agent. But I know this is her point. When I’d asked the other day if Faith had noticed how nice Harry smells, she’d stared at me suspiciously and asked if it was perhaps his pheromones getting to my senses.

‘Oh, I’m quite drunk…’ Faith stalls.

We are cut off when Jordan returns to messing about with the internet.

15

I’m putting the kettle on to make my morning cup of tea when my mother calls. After I collect the receiver from my bedroom side table, she launches immediately into a bubbly review of the show. Full of a cold, my father had fallen asleep and couldn’t be roused properly last night. But not to worry, she’d taped it on their VHS – I’d bought them a smart TV at Christmas, which my father has mastered and my mother, God love her, has not. They’d watched episode 1 together first thing today.

‘It was quite a performance, Grace,’ she finishes. ‘It’s not really a cookery show any more, is it, dear?’

‘No, Mummy. I don’t suppose it is.’ I finish making my cuppa and sit at the table. Bracing myself, I take a small, steaming hot sip. ‘What did Daddy think? Was he completely horrified?’

‘Whatever do you mean, dear? Your father and I found it a hoot! Although, we didn’t know you had it in you, Grace – this acting business.’ If my parents choose to believe I’m an actress, I won’t set them straight. They don’t need to know our new show is more theatrical exposé. ‘And isn’t Faith daring. I say! What about her job at the bank?’

‘Mummy, Faith hasn’t worked at the bank for years. She’s on sabbatical from her office job.’ I don’t want to get into a discussion about venture capitalism. I can’t explain it properly, and I require caffeine before trying. ‘However, I’m pleased to report the station is paying us quite well. More than I earned previously.’

‘Oooh, that is good news. Derek, Grace has had a pay rise.’ I hear my father mumble approval. ‘A big one, dear?’

I tell her my wages have tripled. My parents would be aghast to learn how much I earn and how little I save. My mother cooks everything at home from scratch, shops second-hand for books and clothes and, aside from newspapers, they have few wants. The price of train tickets to London these days astounds my mother. She’d faint if she discovered how much I spend on lunch from Pret.