He took his wife’s elbow to escort her out of the party. All might yet have been well, but Janet, on turning to make a dignified exit, caught the hem of the dragon dress on her heel, tripped and ripped and only just managed to save herself from going arse over tit.

Victoria giggled.

‘Don’t you dare laugh at me!’ Janet was as white as a sheet, the blusher on her cheeks standing out like clown make-up.

Victoria put her hand to her mouth, but could not stifle her laughter, which broke out through her nose.

‘You little whore,’ spat Janet, and threw a nearly full glass of champagne in Victoria’s face. Victoria screamed as the wine bubbled over her cleavage, soaking into the satin and turning it an unpleasant algae colour. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, then drew back her arm as if to slap her rival’s face – and would have done so, perhaps, had not Will restrained her.

Maya Rodean jumped up and down on the spot, clapping her fingertips together. Her celebrity pals joined in. Janet Rivelli left on a wave of applause.

‘What the bloody hell did she think was going to happen?’ Isabelle’s voice was harsh from crying and shouting. The taxi rolled through the empty streets.

‘Oh come on,’ said Will. ‘You can’t think that she set this up deliberately.’

‘I can believe anything of her.’

‘Be sensible. Why would she want to piss off Rivelli like that?’

‘Jealousy?’

‘Don’t be silly. She’s dependent on him. And besides everything else, she’s just ruined two couture dresses which cost a great deal of money.’

‘It was her idea. She got me to send the dress to Rivelli’s wife. Now it looks as if I set the whole thing up. And did you hear what she said? Badly made, ill fitting. Christ. It’s a disaster.’

‘You don’t think it could have just been a ghastly mistake?’

‘Oh come on, Will. Nobody makes a mistake like that. Thanks to Victoria, we’ve lost any chance of a licence with Rivelli, we’ve been made fools of in front of the whole of the British Fashion Council, and worst of all we had Maya bloody Rodean laughing at us. God, they’ll be talking about this for months.’

‘Look on the bright side, Princess. At least they’ll be talking about Cissé.’

‘And I suppose you’re going to say any publicity is good publicity. Don’t bother.’

The taxi took Old Street roundabout at speed.

‘It’ll all blow over. Don’t take it so personally.’

‘I can’t believe Victoria would do this to me. I thought she was my friend.’