And then along came Rivelli, all anger and urgency, his face dark in the mirror as he watched himself going into her, then wiping himself, slapping her on the arse and leaving without saying goodbye. There was no condom to dispose of; there never was with Rivelli. And it had been some time since Victoria had been on the pill; given the current state of her love life, that was one thing she didn’t need to worry about. It would do her good to have a break.

In fact, she thought, as she went back to the party to find Ben, it had done her good in more ways than one. Rivelli might very well have got her pregnant. Okay, it had never happened before, even when she’d ‘accidentally’ slipped up on the birth control, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t. He was fertile; he had a son to prove it. Why shouldn’t she conceive from that one furtive Fashion Week fuck? And then she had him. He could ignore a mistress. He could not ignore a mother.

But supposing it hadn’t worked, and his sperm had not reached their destination? Supposing Rivelli, the great Italian Stallion, was firing blanks after all? That would be a joke. Maybe his own son was not really his. If so, he would never admit it. That, to Rivelli, would be worse than ruin. His manhood called into question? Never. He must remain as he believed himself to be, a potent male.

And that was where Ben came in so handy. Twenty years old, fit and healthy, high on his success, and, with a couple of drinks inside him, staring at her tits like a hungry baby. She had only to get him into a cab before he got too pissed to perform, up the stairs to the master bedroom – Leanne would never know – and let nature take its course.

They fucked for hours. Experience was all very well, but at times like this, when you really needed to get the job done, there was nothing like the stamina of youth.

‘Right, Joel. I need some answers.’

Will couldn’t really get angry with him, not yet: Joel had saved the day, after all, and been extravagantly demonstrative when they got home after the show, as if, by having sex, he could put off indefinitely the time for explanations.

‘I suppose you’ll have to tell the police.’

‘I’ve told the police already. And they’re as keen as I am to hear what really happened.’

‘I told you. Rivelli got me to hold the clothes to ransom. It was never meant to get this serious. It was never meant to involve the law.’