‘If for any reason the biometric lock does not work,’ he handed me the silver key which was just as heavy as it looked, ‘you can open it the old-fashioned way.’

The door swung open on its own and we both stepped inside the room. Only it wasn’t a room, it was a palace. An extravagent, decadent palace filled with beautiful things meant for beautiful people.

‘Fuck me,’ I exclaimed, before clapping a hand over my mouth. ‘Sorry, I don’t know where that came from.’

‘Not at all,’ he replied, cheerful at my inelegant compliment. ‘This is not an uncommon response.’

The first time I saw The Songbird, I thought it was the most luxurious thing that could possibly exist on this earth, but the presidential suite at Hotel Panarea made the yacht look like the least pleasant toilet cubicle in a well-frequented service station.

‘Allow me to show you around,’ Paul offered as he strode through the entry way, and into the sitting room proper, waving his hands at concealed televisions, state-of-the-art sound systems, Bluetooth hook-ups, a fully-stocked bar, three different seating areas, and a ridiculous number of gift baskets, piled high with food, drink, beauty products, and gadgets all for Juliette. Did she really need three Apple watches? Did anyone?

‘Both of the bedrooms are masters,’ Paul said, still talking even though I had stopped. ‘Many of our more artistic guests prefer the feng shui of the Aeolian suite, but the Tyrrhenian is, to my taste, just as lovely and with a prettier view. It just comes down to the preferred facilities. The Aeolian has the infrared Himalayan salt sauna while the Tyrrhenian suite enjoys a four-person steam shower and six-person Jacuzzi tub.’

Yet more evidence that everything made for rich people was all about shagging.

‘Shall I show you the kitchen area?’ he offered.

‘That’s very kind, but I think I’ll manage on my own,’ I replied. I’d been following him from room to room for twenty minutes and I’d already forgotten literally everything he’d told me. ‘I should get things ready for Juliette.’

‘But of course.’ He gave a polite nod and started back towards the entrance hall. I was standing in a hotel suite that had an entrance hall bigger than my first flat. ‘If there is anything at all you need, my entire team is at your disposal. We look forward to receiving such an esteemed guest.’

I waited until I heard the lock click behind him before I collapsed into a human puddle in the middle of the sitting-room floor. There were two beds, five settees, seven armchairs, four barstools, and sixteen dining chairs to choose from, but the floor felt right. I belonged on the floor.

For the first time in my entire life, I’d failed.