Ken Kerrow looks profoundly shocked. ‘You haven’t seen Yentl?’

‘Ahm …’ Tarkie looks trapped. ‘Sorry … did you say “Lentil”?’

‘Yentl!’ Ken Kerrow almost shouts. ‘Streisand!’

Poor Tarkie. He clearly doesn’t understand a word Ken is saying.

‘I watch a lot of wildlife documentaries,’ he says desperately. ‘David Attenborough. Marvellous man.’

Ken Kerrow just shakes his head pityingly, but before he can say anything else, Suze swoops in.

‘Darling, let’s go and watch the dancers.’ She gives Ken Kerrow a charming smile. ‘I’m so sorry to drag my husband away. Bex, shall we go and watch the dancers?’

As we’re heading towards the stage, I’m distracted by a sign on one of the tables: Silent Auction Prizes.

‘I’m just going to have a quick look,’ I say to Suze. ‘I’ll catch up with you in a sec.’

There’s an amazing necklace on a stand, which is up for auction, and as I draw near I feel the tugging of lust. God, it’s beautiful, all pale-pink crystals and a hammered-silver heart, I wonder how much …

Oh my God. I’ve suddenly seen the printed label below it: Reserve price $10,000. I hastily back away, in case anyone thinks I’m bidding for it. Ten thousand? Seriously? I mean, it’s a nice necklace and everything, but … $10,000? Just for some pink crystals? I don’t even dare go near the pair of watches at the end of the table. Or that voucher for a Malibu villa. Maybe I’ll go and watch the dancers with Suze instead. I’m about to turn away, when I see a doddery old man making his way slowly along the prizes. He looks quite frail, and is keeping his balance by clutching at the table.

Not a single person has noticed him, which makes me feel quite incensed. I mean, what’s the point of coming to a benefit to help people, and then ignoring a poor old man who needs help right in front of your eyes?

‘Are you all right, sir?’ I hurry forward, but he bats me away.

‘Fine, fine!’

He’s very tanned, with perfect teeth and what looks suspiciously like a white toupee, but his hands are gnarled and his eyes are a bit rheumy. Honestly, someone should be looking after him.

‘It’s a lovely event,’ I say politely.

‘Oh yes.’ He nods. ‘Wonderful cause. Discrimination is the blight of our lives. I myself am gay, and let me tell you, the world is not an open place. Not yet.’

‘No,’ I agree.

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t encountered discrimination yourself. As a woman. And in other ways. Because in my opinion, no human on this earth is free from discrimination in some way or other.’

He’s so full of fervour, I don’t like to contradict him.

‘Definitely,’ I nod. ‘I’ve been discriminated against in lots of ways. Heaps. All the time.’

‘Tell me some examples of this shocking behaviour.’ His rheumy eyes fix eagerly on me.

My mind is blank. Come on, quick. Discrimination.

‘Well, obviously as a woman … and …’ I cast my mind around. ‘I once had to take out my earrings to work in a café, so that was discriminating against jewellery … and … er … hobbies can be discriminated against and … pets …’ I have no idea what I’m saying. ‘It’s terrible,’ I end lamely. ‘We need to fight it.’