Isabelle put her hands over her ears. ‘I don’t want to hear his name, thank you very much.’

Christine regained her sangfroid. ‘. . . To join me and Joel for a civilised drink and a chat. Who knows? You might actually like him.’

‘That’s disgusting.’

‘I see.’ The two women stood, facing each other. ‘Well, if that’s how you feel, I don’t think there’s much else to say. Please go before we say something we both regret.’

Isabelle opened her mouth to give one of her standard responses – like ‘You’re not in court now, Mum’ – but thought better of it, and walked out of the house.

‘Safe to come out?’ said Joel, peeking around the kitchen door a few minutes after the front door had slammed. Christine’s hands were still shaking, but she put on a bright smile and held them out to him.

‘Am I allowed in?’

Victoria put her head timidly round the studio door, as if afraid that she was going to be thrown out. Isabelle was alone.

‘Oh. It’s you.’

‘Yes, I’m afraid so. Can we talk?’

‘About what?’

‘You know.’

‘Yes. I don’t think there’s anything to say, is there? I hope you got what you wanted, whatever that was.’

Isabelle was going to be harder to manage than Rivelli, thought Victoria.

‘Look, I just wanted to say sorry. I realise that I put you in a very awkward position.’

‘That’s the understatement of the century. You’ve made us into a laughing stock.’

‘I wouldn’t go quite that far.’

‘No?’ Isabelle looked steadily at her. ‘I don’t suppose you would.’

‘If it’s any consolation,’ said Victoria, ‘Rivelli thinks you’re great.’

This wasn’t strictly true. Rivelli had said an awful lot of things about Cissé, many of them in highly colloquial Italian, before conceding that Isabelle did know her way around an evening dress.

‘Oh come on, Victoria. If he thinks of me at all, it’s as the idiot who stuck his wife and his girlfriend in the same dress. Great. Cheers. Thanks a lot.’

She’d hit the nail on the head, but this did not suit Victoria’s purposes. It was important that Isabelle thought well of Rivelli, and he of her. Any friction between the two would be sure to expose Victoria as the author of dragongate.

‘I haven’t come here to argue,’ said Victoria.

‘Oh, really? Then you might as well leave,’ said Isabelle, ‘because I don’t have any other ideas.’

‘I wanted to tell you what really happened.’

‘It’s perfectly clear what happened. You set me up. You used me as a way of getting at Rivelli and you didn’t give a damn about the damage to my reputation.’

‘That’s not true! I didn’t know they were going to be there. I swear to God, I did not know. He told me they were out of the country.’