Fin then pointed to the doorway on the right-hand side at the far end. ‘Opposite is the Jacuzzi and pool. And next to it, over there, is the garage.’ He pointed to a lift on their right and gave a shrug. ‘Self-evident. Useful on big nights when you can’t manage the stairs.’

‘That’s happened, has it then?’ Clover asked innocently.

Fin laughed and wagged his finger. ‘Ha! Strictly no comment!’

He led them up a winding staircase that was halfway along the hall on the right. It had slate treads and spotlights every third step, a sculpted giant bonsai on a console on the half landing.

‘This floor is where the smaller bedrooms are – for staff and guests. Mine is down that end, opposite the lift, Carlotta’s is next to mine. There’s an empty room at the end there,’ he said, pointing to the door in the right-hand corner. ‘Ari’s got the big corner room opposite and there’s a twin next to him, here.’ He opened the door onto a bedroom with two single beds draped with charcoal-grey throws edged with red blanket stitch. A medley of soft toys was arranged on a shelf, along with some jigsaws and board games. Fin raised an eyebrow. ‘Sorry, we’re a full house now. This room is usually used by the kids.’

So there were three beds but only two bedrooms?

‘Well then, I guess that’s us in here,’ Clover said, looking at Matty . It wasn’t like Johnny and Mats could share; they’d kill each other.

‘Sleepover time.’ Matty gave an easy shrug.

‘Lucky me,’ Johnny murmured as Fin began leading them up to the next floor. ‘So I get to sleep directly opposite Ari “Killer” Jones?’

Matty guffawed loudly. ‘I told you. I’ll protect you,’ she sniggered as Fin brought them up to the next level.

‘And here’s what we call the fun palace.’ He stood back and waited as they trooped up behind him, their jaws dropping open one by one.

‘Yeah. I know,’ he nodded. ‘Pretty amazing. It takes some getting used to.’

The space was vast: double height, double width, double . . . everything. At the far end, beside the smoky floor-to-ceiling picture window, were two banks of vintage burnt-orange velvet Camaleonda sofas, arranged either side of a giant ‘onion bulb’ hanging fireplace. Sheepskin beanbags were dotted around the floor. On the left-hand wall was a huge colour-soaked canvas of abstract art above a four-metre-long Shou Sugi Ban dining table and fourteen chairs. At the near end, at a perpendicular angle, was a billiards table and a fully stocked butler’s bar set into a wall that was shelved and stacked with books – as was the entire wall opposite. An oak pole ran across at three metres high, with a ladder perched against it. At a guess, there had to be over a thousand books in this one room alone.

Clover looked up, seeing a mezzanine upstairs. She realized her mouth was hanging open and made a conscious move to close it.