(Or Selleck?)

(Or some other new hot Tom I don’t know about?)

At least there was only one red carpet this time, not that my feet touched it for more than thirty seconds. All the stars were posing on one side for the photographers, while we lesser mortals were pushed along briskly by men in headsets who were practically holding cattle prods. I mean, I was virtually running, and Suze twisted her ankle.

‘Best Hairspray,’ says Suze, nodding at a woman with rocksolid hair.

‘Best Fake Boobs,’ I chime in, pointing to a girl striding by in a strapless dress.

‘Ooh, look! Best Producer Being Mean to Her Assistant,’ says Suze, gesturing at a scrawny woman in a tux, who is talking fiercely through the side of her mouth at a young girl who looks like she might start crying.

The actual awards don’t start for another whole hour, and as far as I can see, neither Sage nor Lois are here yet. Suze says her ankle is too painful to mill around, and Tarkie has disappeared off with a friend of his from volleyball, so we’re sitting at our table with glasses of wine, giving out our own awards.

‘I saw that girl in the loos.’ Suze nudges me as a beautiful red-haired girl walks by. ‘She gets Best Use of Concealer. And Best Drying Her Armpits under the Hot-Air Dryer— Oh!’ She breaks off. ‘April! Hello!’

I swivel round and gulp. There’s April Tremont, looking very slinky in a peacock-blue dress. And standing next to her is …

Oh my God. My heart suddenly starts bumping in my chest.

‘Lois, may I introduce Rebecca Brandon?’ says April. ‘Rebecca, this is Lois Kellerton.’

Seeing celebrities in real life is like seeing a Magic Eye, I’ve decided. At first they seem totally unreal, like a magazine or a film hoarding come to life. Then your eyes gradually adjust and they take on 3D form. And at last they kind of turn into real people. Kind of.

Lois’s face is thinner even than it was when I saw her before. Her skin is so fair it’s almost translucent. Her wavy hair is caught up in a loose knot, and she’s wearing a drifty, silky grey dress that makes her look like a shadow.

‘Hi,’ she says softly.

‘Hi,’ I say awkwardly, holding out my hand. ‘Lovely to … meet you.’

She takes my hand – and I see something snap in her face. She’s realized. She’s recognized me. My stomach clenches in apprehension. How is this going to go?

All credit to Lois, she’s totally kept her cool. Her pupils haven’t even dilated. No one would have any idea we’ve met before. That’s what acting training does for you, I expect.

‘Becky,’ she says slowly.

‘Exactly.’ I swallow. ‘I’m Becky.’

Don’t mention shoplifting, I tell myself firmly. Do not even THINK about shoplifting. The trouble is, the more I tell myself not to think about it, the more I can’t help it. I feel like her secret is dancing up and down inside me, shouting ‘Let me out!’