‘Unfortunately he has been delayed. He’s travelling back from Dubai. He has only recently returned to Britain after a few years abroad.’

‘Why did he leave?’

Hadi Kattan sighed again. ‘He became tired of people moving away from him on the underground trains, I believe.’

‘That kind of prejudice must be very hard to bear,’ I grimaced. For some reason, my internal alarm was ringing.

‘It is the world we live in now, it seems,’ Kattan said with dignity.

‘Can you tell me about your son’s political ambitions?’

‘I’m sure he will be happy to tell you himself, when he arrives.’

I smiled. Thwarted. ‘So I believe you’re also a very important person indeed in one of the big banks.’ I took a sip of champagne, relieved to look away from his intense gaze. I noticed that no alcohol had passed his lips yet.

‘Briefly,’ he acquiesced graciously. ‘I was a director of World-Trident. But it was not for me. I do not particularly enjoy dancing to the corporate tune.’

‘A man after my own heart. Impressive, though, Mr Kattan.’ James raised an eyebrow. ‘One of the big players.’

Kattan shrugged elegantly. ‘Hardly. And banks are not the place to be at the moment, I think, my friends, as we are currently learning, no? I got out at the right time. I prefer the art in my home to the numbers on the screen.’

He gestured at the pictures; my eye was drawn to a diamond-encrusted skull in a glass case behind him.

‘Damien Hirst?’

‘Indeed. Are you a fan?’

‘Not really, I’m afraid.’ I went to take a better look. ‘He pretty much stands for everything asinine about the past decade. Clever bloke, though, I guess.’ I glanced at my husband. ‘Tapping into hedonistic greed the way he did.’

James drained his champagne and winked at me. ‘Another bloke after my own heart.’

As I straightened up, a silver Porsche hurtled up the drive and skidded to a halt in front of the house. I watched through the windows as a young black man flung himself out of the car and headed towards the house but he didn’t get very far before he was halted by a tall figure, hood up against the wind. Hand on his arm, he was apparently trying to calm the shorter man, who gesticulated wildly at the house. Kattan glanced at them, and then turned me gently away.

‘Anyway, I did not just mean business interests. I am more keen on the recreational type now.’ Heads had begun to turn at the commotion; both men were now getting into the car as I glanced round again. Kattan smoothed his lapel carefully with a flattened hand; he spoke a little louder. ‘I am thinking of taking up guns, actually. I have quite a selection here.’

‘Guns?’ My ears pricked up.

‘Shooting birds, you know,’ Kattan smiled benevolently. ‘Such a civilised part of your culture, I think.’