‘Rebecca?’ A girl in a black trouser suit approaches me with a businesslike smile. ‘I’m Charlotte. I’ll be escorting you on the red carpet. Let’s keep moving.’

‘Hi, Charlotte!’ I beam at her as we shake hands. ‘Isn’t this amazing? Look at the jugglers! Look at the elephant!’

Charlotte seems puzzled.

‘Right,’ she says. ‘Whatever. Let’s go.’

Cameras are flashing everywhere as we proceed along. I’ve been practising the proper film-star pose for days, only now I have to walk, too. I never practised film-star walking. Damn. How do they do it?

I think they kind of glide seamlessly along. I’ll glide too. Perhaps with my legs slightly bent?

‘Are you OK?’ Charlotte gives me a strange look and I hastily straighten my legs. Maybe that’s not such a good look. ‘So, we have your photocall and then your interviews …’ She glances at her watch and consults her clipboard. She seems totally unimpressed by the elephant, or the fire-eaters, or the celebrities. In fact, she seems unimpressed by the whole event. ‘So, you’re on.’

With no warning, she pushes me into an empty patch of red carpet, in front of a bank of photographers, who all start shouting, ‘Becky! Becky, over here!’

Hastily I get into position. Legs crossed, chin tucked, radiant, celebrity-type smile …

I’m waiting to feel the glee I did before … but it’s weird. I feel a bit nothingy. And then, almost before they’ve started, it’s over, and Charlotte is tugging me along again, towards the rows of TV cameras.

It was more fun when it was me and Suze, giggling at the whole thing, flashes through my mind.

No. Don’t be stupid. This is fantastic. I’m a proper celeb! I’m part of it! I’ve loads to say about Sage’s outfits, and my own dress, and fashion … I can’t wait.

‘So, the first interview is with Fox News,’ says Charlotte in my ear, and pushes me towards a TV camera. I quickly straighten my hair, and hope my lipstick hasn’t come off on my teeth, and put on my brightest, most intelligent expression.

‘Hello, Betty!’ says a very coiffed woman in a trouser suit. ‘We’re delighted you could join us!’

‘Thanks!’ I smile. ‘Although actually, it’s Becky.’

‘Betty,’ she continues as though she didn’t hear, ‘you are, of course, the witness to Lois Kellerton’s shoplifting incident. Have you seen Lois since then?’

I’m flummoxed for a moment. What do I say? I can’t reply, ‘Yes, I broke into her house and found her plotting how to fool the American public.’

‘Um … no,’ I say, feebly.

‘If you see her tonight, what will you be saying to her?’

‘I’ll be wishing her well.’

‘Lovely! Well, thank you, Betty! Enjoy the movie!’

To my astonishment, Charlotte grabs my arm and shunts me onward. That was it? That was the interview? Don’t they want to know what I do for a living? Don’t they want to know who my dress is by?

‘And the next one is TXCN,’ says Charlotte in my ear.