The decorators had done an excellent job, and the designers had filled it with beautiful furniture and ornaments. It was a dream home. The only problem was that Tony didn’t live in it. She felt it was a waste, really, but from his point of view, she supposed it was a good investment.

He had stayed there maybe five times during the year. He had created a study and filled it with old account books and personal documents, and had then bolted it and put a padlock on it. Only Elle knew that, inside that study of his, was the blue folder from the social services, containing information about his childhood. She presumed he wanted that kind of information miles away from anyone. This was the other side of Tony Lambrianu. This was Antonias, the man the newspapers and the starlets never saw.

So, the house was decorated and furnished but all the furniture was covered in dust sheets; the place was just waiting for life to be breathed into it.

Elle had been surprised that he hadn’t used it as a weekend getaway or a large party palace for his lady friends, but no. No woman apart from herself and Sharon ever set foot in the place. When Roxy had found out about his house, she naturally assumed she would be invited to go and see it, probably hoping and crossing her fingers that Tony had at last had come to his senses and decided he loved her. This would be their home, and this was his way of telling her, she was sure.

The worst part of all this was Tony was showing preference to another ‘love’; his favourite at the moment seemed to be the lovely Linda. She was a well-known model, who took Tony to all the right parties to meet all the right people. She also felt she was in the running to become Mrs Lambrianu. Linda was showcasing him to her friends; the only problem with that was now Tony had been introduced to these love-struck models, he was also sleeping with most of them!

He knew Roxy used cocaine and he never questioned her about it. He knew a lot of the other models used similar drugs, like speed, to keep their weight down. It speeded up their metabolism and helped them get through the twelve-, sometimes fourteen-hour days, sitting in front of a camera and changing costumes. It seemed obvious to Elle that these women were nothing more than Tony’s playthings, and definitely not the sort of woman he would settle down with.

She was surprised one afternoon when he had turned up at her bungalow, out of the blue. During their catch-up he had mentioned a woman he had met at a party, last Christmas. His tone was different, and he seemed remorseful about not knowing who she was. Then, suddenly, he had snapped out of it and left.

‘Will you two be showing your faces at the party tonight?’ said Sharon. ‘These dancers do work for you, you know, maybe you should put in an appearance.’