‘I wasn’t going to ring off!’ says Mum indignantly. ‘I wanted to hear all about it, for a start. Such a pleasant girl. She gave me every detail.’

‘How long did you talk for?’

‘Ooh, I’d say … How long was I on the phone, Janice? About forty minutes?’

‘Forty minutes?’ I echo, aghast.

There’s Luke saying ‘Don’t speak to the press’ and even Aran advising me ‘Don’t say anything’, and now Mum has given an in-depth interview to the Daily World.

‘Well, don’t say any more!’ I instruct her. ‘Not till you speak to Luke, anyway.’

‘She wanted to know if you’d ever shoplifted yourself,’ says Mum. ‘The idea! I said absolutely never, unless you count the time you came home from Hamleys with six pairs of dollies’ shoes in your pockets. But you were only three, bless you. We sent them back in an envelope, remember?’

‘You didn’t tell her that!’ I wail. God knows what they’ll write now. ‘Mum, can I speak to Dad? Is he driving?’

‘No, Martin’s doing this stretch. I’ll put you on.’

There’s a scuffling noise, then I hear my father’s voice, deep and reassuring.

‘How’s my little Becky? Plunged into another kerfuffle, I see! Are the media stationed outside your house as we speak?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘Ah. Well, you know the only thing worse than being talked about, don’t you?’

‘Not being talked about,’ I answer, with a smile. Dad always has some little saying for each occasion.

‘If you need us to fly over and give you our support, I’m sure your mother will be only too happy to buy a new outfit for the occasion.’

‘Dad!’ I can’t help laughing.

‘Seriously, Becky.’ His voice changes. ‘Are you all right? And Minnie?’

‘We’re fine.’

‘Because we will come, if you need us. The next flight we can.’

‘I know,’ I say, touched. ‘Don’t worry, Dad. But can you stop Mum talking to the press?’

‘I’ll do my best,’ he says. ‘Now, apart from foiling shoplifters and becoming a global media sensation, is life all right in Hollywood? Sun not too warm? Sky not too blue?’

‘It’s all fine.’ I laugh again.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to look up that old friend of mine?’

Damn. Damn. I totally meant to do that. This is the second time he’s had to remind me. I feel terrible.

‘Dad, I’m really sorry,’ I say. ‘It just slipped my mind. But I will, I promise …’

‘Darling, please don’t worry! You’re very busy. I know that.’

He’s so understanding, I feel worse than ever.

‘I’ll do it,’ I say. ‘I absolutely promise.’

As I put the phone down, I’m thinking hard. I can see another news van pulling up outside the gates and Aran’s words are running through my brain: Don’t leave it too long. The heat won’t last for ever.

‘Your parents OK?’ says Luke, coming back into the hall.

‘Yes, fine. Except my mother gave an interview to the Daily World. It’s OK,’ I add quickly at his appalled expression. ‘I’ve told her not to say any more.’