‘Uh . . . what the fuck was that back there?’ Mats murmured in her ear as they kissed cheeks. ‘I thought he was going to go in for a snog!’

‘Mind games,’ Clover murmured back. ‘Imagine those headlines.’

Matty just stared at her with a funny expression.

‘Thanks for the dress, by the way.’ Clover pinched the yellow silk fabric.

‘Is that m—?’ Her eyes widened. ‘With those shoes? I never would have thought . . .’

‘Meanwhile, you’re looking gorgeous in that old thing.’ Clover let her finger tickle the fragile webbed lace. ‘Don’t tell me he took you shopping?’

‘He wanted to!’

‘And when did things progress to this stage?’ Clover asked, glancing across at Julian and Kit, who were deep in conversation; or rather, Julian was. Kit was standing there, hands in his pockets, his head bent and looking bored.

‘Well, what did you expect?’ Matty hissed. ‘You buggered off for five days. There was nothing else to do!’

Clover arched an eyebrow. ‘This is not on me.’

‘Well, we’re leaving next week anyway. It was now or never . . .’

‘I just don’t want you getting hurt, that’s all.’

‘I won’t! Look, it’s just some fun. No hearts will be broken in the making of this film, I promise.’

‘Hmm.’ Clover wasn’t so sure her friend was as unentangled as she thought. She’d never been wooed like this before. She’d grown up with hand-me-downs and too-small shoes, and this world she now found herself in – with luxury hotels at her disposal and designer dresses being bought for her – was a childhood dream. But it wasn’t real. Did she see that?

‘Come on. Let’s leave them to talk shop. You look in dire need of a drink,’ Matty said, linking her arm through Clover’s and leading her into the casino.

Clover could feel the men’s eyes on their backs as they walked.

‘Now here’s some chips for you. Five hundred euros on the house, to get you started.’

Clover looked astonished as Matty dropped the tokens into her hand. ‘Five hundred euros? For free?’

‘Yeah, they’re doing it for everyone. To get the juices flowing.’

‘They’ve given five hundred euros to every person here?’ Clover asked, surveying the packed room.

‘Clo, that’s nothing to what these people are going to splurge tonight! And thirty per cent of the takings goes to the charity.’

Clover looked at the other guests. She supposed Matty was right – a five-hundred-euro outlay per head was nothing. There were some serious jewels on display, lots of couture dresses and diamante-encrusted shoes. Clover suspected many of the guests must have come in from Salzburg and further afield; she could practically smell the money in here.