Johnny shook his head. ‘Then he apologizes. He goes on camera and throws himself on the public’s mercy. He wouldn’t be the first celebrity to have to prostrate himself.’

‘There is no chance he’ll do that!’ she scoffed. ‘You know him!’

‘Yeah, but Clo, you haven’t seen what it’s like out there.’ He jerked his thumb in the direction of the main doors. ‘If he thought things were bad before . . .’ Johnny whistled. ‘One of the guys working for Reuters picked up an early ping from Sydney and went back to his bosses, told them he was standing right outside the casino where Kit Foley was playing poker . . . They’re all waiting for him, Clo. He’s going to be walking into an ambush.’ He took a breath. ‘You need to talk to him and convince him to leave now, by the back door. I can get Ari to bring the car round.’

She knew Johnny was right. They had to get Kit out of here before things escalated.

Clover looked around the room. ‘Ari’s over there,’ she said, pointing to him standing by a roulette table, talking to a brunette with impressively sculpted triceps. ‘You tell him. I’ll find Kit. I just saw him . . .’

But where had he gone?

Johnny ran off, weaving past the bodies, as Clover turned on the spot. Had he gone to another table? She could see Matty and Julian laughing and talking intently with an older couple; they were having a perfect night. Her eyes lifted off them in the next second; this was no time for happiness . . .

She remembered the direction Kit had headed after leaving the poker table and she looked over that way, standing on tiptoe. It felt like a heavy weight was pressing on her chest as she scanned the room. Those headlines couldn’t be true. Could they?

She saw him! He was heading straight for the doors.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, trying to get past a corpulent man in black barathea. ‘Excuse me.’ The man turned, feeling her hands pushing against him. She couldn’t take her eyes off Kit.

‘Kit!’ she cried, but her voice was swallowed up, drowned in a cheer as someone won big on the baccarat tables. There were so many people. No wonder Johnny had been out of breath trying to get to her. ‘Kit!’ she cried again, reaching up with her arm.

This time he heard her and turned. He was right in the doorway now. Two more steps and he’d be out on the ramp, in front of the baying pack of photographers, ready to capture his latest shame.

He looked straight at her.

‘Kit, wait! Don’t go!’ she cried.

He just stared at her with his usual inscrutable look, then turned again. Of course he would defy her! The doors were opened and he stepped outside.