Danny himself is in jeans and a ripped T-shirt, but that’s OK, because he’s playing himself. Meanwhile, Mum, Janice, and I are all in different versions of the domestic-staff uniform of the Las Vegas Convention Center, which is where everything’s going to take place.

Danny got us the uniforms; I have no idea how, except it was through a “contact.” I’m in a tailored housekeeper’s dress with a badge reading MARIGOLD SPITZ. Janice is in a black dress and little apron—not sure what she’s supposed to be. Part of the catering team, maybe? And Mum has an important-looking jacket and skirt combo. She must be some kind of manager or concierge or something.

The crucial thing is that we’ve got the meeting rooms exactly as I ordered—interconnecting with double doors. I’ve nicknamed one room “Ben” and the other “Jerry’s,” and the doors are firmly shut between them. For now.

“Right.” For the millionth time I survey the team. “Does everyone know what they’re doing?”

I’ve got the Ocean’s Eleven theme music pulsing through my head, because we watched it last night on DVD, to get us in the mood. We also played cards and drank beers and kept saying, “Are you in or are you out?” to one another.

“You’ve got the cupcakes ready?” says Suze, and I produce the box from a side cupboard. I place ten cupcakes on a plate, and for a silent moment the two of us survey it.

“You think we need one more cupcake?” I ask.

Suze doesn’t move. But I can read that little crinkle in her brow.

“You think we need one more cupcake,” I say.

Still she doesn’t move. I know what’s going on here. She’s being Brad Pitt and I’ve got to be George Clooney.

“OK,” I say, deadpan. “We’ll have one more cupcake.” I place the final cupcake on top of the pile and dust down my hands. “We’re set.”

“Corey’s here,” says Luke, looking at his phone, and my stomach gives a heave of nerves. Oh God. He’s here. It’s starting. And just for a moment I feel engulfed by terror. Are we actually, really doing this?

At least Minnie is safely in our hotel room, being looked after by the lovely Judy. (We brought Judy with us from Sedona as a temporary nanny, which was Luke’s idea, and it was a brilliant move.)

“Cyndi’s ten minutes away,” reports Danny, consulting his phone. “It’s on. Good luck, everyone.”

My hands are damp and my heart is suddenly pounding. I half-want to run away and forget we ever planned this. But everyone’s looking at me for instructions. This is my gig, I tell myself firmly. I need to make it happen. And although I’m terrified, I’m exhilarated too.

“OK,” I say briskly. “Party time. Dad, you need to get out of the way. Luke, you head down to the lobby to collect Corey.” Luke nods and strides out of the room, giving me a brief kiss on the way.