“It rained all the time,” Gary said without a hint of regret. “It was great to get away, though.” He looked at her again. “You should try it. Looks like you could do with a holiday. I’m sorry about all the stuff they’re saying about you at the moment. They haven’t a clue.”

“Thanks, Gary,” Lizzie said again. She looked out of the window. London in October matched her mood, at least on this particular day. The pavements were wind-scoured and the trees looked bare and fading. The sky was pewter grey. Dull.

Depressing. She felt the dark shadow breathing down her neck like a stalker.

She wondered what Bill and Kat were saying about her. It was almost as though she could hear them: she would change her mind because she was so flighty, she wasn’t strong enough to go it alone, it would all come to nothing and tomorrow they could go back to how things had been and pretend this tantrum of hers had never happened...

Or perhaps they weren’t talking about her at all. Perhaps she had become so self-obsessed in her celebrity bubble that she assumed she was more important than she really was.

The taxi stopped at traffic lights and someone thrust a camera phone towards the window. The flash went off, making Lizzie blink, waking her from her absorption. A family was crossing the road ahead all wrapped up against the chill in woolly hats and padded jackets, the children’s gloved hands clutching those of their parents. They were laughing as the leaves tumbled about them and a fine drizzle of rain started to fall.

The taxi pulled up outside her flat and Lizzie paid it off with thanks and went inside, from one protected cocoon to another. There was no one in the foyer and no one in the lift. The quiet seemed deathly, the flat a tomb. With a sigh Lizzie went through to her bedroom and started to pull a suitcase out of her wardrobe. It was one of the heavy-duty ones that she used for overseas trips and it caught on the corner of her shoe rack and tumbled half a dozen pairs to the floor. The scent of her favourite perfume caught at her senses as the racks of clothes shifted and whispered together. There would be no need of those gala and premiere dresses for a while.

It was like sloughing off an identity. She picked up a random pile of T-shirts and jeans and threw them into the case. Then the enormity of what she was doing hit her like a blow and she crumpled to sit down rather heavily on the floor. Where the hell was she going to go? She knew loads of people and she was sure most of them would welcome her with open arms but they weren’t proper friends, they were business acquaintances or other celebs or just people she knew... She didn’t trust any of them not to run to the press with the sort of story Bill had talked about: Lizzie Kingdom running away, Lizzie Kingdom having a breakdown, Lizzie Kingdom stricken with remorse... She felt like crying. Her mood teetered on the edge of self-pity and she wanted to give up the whole stupid plan and go back to all the things that were easy and familiar. Bill had been right. She had no grit, no sticking power.