‘Anyway, him, I want to say the Russian. That’s it. Ivan. I remember thinking how suitable it was, because darling, he was terrible. He was all over Joel, treating him like a possession, then constantly asking me if I minded.’

‘And did you? Were you jealous?’

‘Yes. A bit. But I was more . . . how can I put it? Repulsed.’

‘Did you fight?’

‘No, no. Not in my nature, is it, Princess? I’m more the put-up-and-shut-up type, then I slag them off behind their backs. Anyway, we all ended up in the loo – sorry, the bathroom – me and Joel and Ivan the Terrible, and these two big hunky guys who seemed to know Ivan, I assumed they were, you know, actors. They looked the type.’

‘Had you seen them before?’

‘Possibly on an adult website.’

‘Were they at the pool party?’

‘Difficult to say,’ said Will. ‘They all look the same. Bald heads, big muscles, thick necks, tribal tattoos. I mean, they’re ten a penny out here, aren’t they?’

‘And what happened?’

‘Well, we took something.’

‘What?’

‘I think he said it was coke.’

‘You inhaled it?’

‘Yes. I don’t do anything else. Oh dear, that probably makes me sound like a habitual drug user. What I mean is I never drink funny liquids in bottles and I never inject or smoke.’

‘How did it make you feel?’

‘A bit like pre-med. I don’t remember much. I have a vague impression that we all started having sex.’

‘Where? In the bathroom?’

‘Well we can’t have done, can we? There wouldn’t have been room. I have an image of being in a bed somewhere, with those two . . .’

‘The bald guys?’

‘Yes. It all seemed terribly exciting at the time, rather like watching a movie. I wasn’t sure if I was really there or not. Sorry.’

‘What about Joel and the other one, Ivan? Were they there?’

‘I just don’t know.’

‘Okay. You were having sex with two tattooed hunks,’ said the blond plain-clothes man.

‘Yes. Lucky me.’

‘What next?’

‘That’s it. Fade to black.’

‘What about Joel?’

‘I don’t think he was . . . I don’t know. I have a very vague recollection of him bending over me, but it’s more like a dream.’

‘What was he doing?’

‘Crying.’

‘Crying?’

‘Look, this could all be bullshit, but I have this image of his face with tears running down the cheeks. And there was light behind him – a very dim grey sort of light. It was very peaceful, and I remember thinking how beautiful he was. I mean, he is. He’s very beautiful. Well, I think so, anyway.’

‘Did he say anything?’

‘I’m not sure. He might have said “Sorry,” I suppose.’

‘Sorry?’