‘Yes, I must go in and see her,’ Charlotte sighed, sipping from her glass as she began to unbutton her shirt. ‘I need some new pieces for next season.’ She padded through to the bathroom and showered quickly, emerging minutes later with pink cheeks and brighter eyes – the puffiness had all but gone now, thanks to the protracted taxi ride too. No one would ever guess she’d spent the entire flight in tears.

Mouse had refilled her glass and sat beside her on the chaise, swinging one long tanned leg idly as Charlotte quickly did her make-up.

‘Is everyone here?’ she asked, carefully applying a nude eyeshadow.

‘Everyone who’s anyone,’ Mouse shrugged. ‘All awaiting your grand entrance.’

‘Ha, I hope they’re not going to be disappointed then,’ she muttered.

‘As if. You’re the peacock in every room, whether you like it or not.’ Charlotte glanced over at her. Mouse’s own wild partying stage had come late, after their father’s death. She had been an awkward teen before that and Charlotte had the sense she had unwittingly cast a long shadow over her little sister, something she’d been trying to make up for ever since. ‘Even your ex has made it.’

Charlotte’s hand dropped down like a stone. ‘What?’ Her voice sounded cleaved.

‘Jules?’ Mouse arched an eyebrow.

‘ . . . Oh.’ She looked down at the dressing table, her eye picking up the microscopic grains of Chanel pressed powder on the glass. She tried to bring her heart rate straight back down again.

‘Who’d you think I meant?’

Charlotte shook her head and swallowed. ‘No one.’

Mouse frowned, quiet for a moment as she watched her. ‘. . . I take it you’ve heard the latest?’

Charlotte didn’t stop moving to listen, blending the shadow up onto her brow bone; there was always news of some sort about Jules. ‘Nope. What’s he done now?’ she asked, bored, far more interested in her make-up.

Mouse laughed loudly. ‘I can’t believe you haven’t heard! Honestly, don’t you two ever talk?’

‘We didn’t talk while we were married, why would we talk now?’ Charlotte muttered, looking for her brown kohl.

‘He’s going to be a father.’

She found it, pulling it out and checking the point was sharp enough. ‘Really?’ she murmured. The news only vaguely surprised, rather than shocked, her. He had been engaged to Jemima Astoria for a few months now, after surprising himself, as well as his intended, by proposing at a party in Ibiza. ‘Well, that’s great.’

‘Yeah. But that’s not the thing,’ Mouse said, revelling in the gossip, her slim leg swinging faster.

‘No? What’s the thing?’ Charlotte murmured, applying her mascara, eyes pulled wide.

‘It’s not Jemima that’s preggers. It’s Violet.’

Charlotte’s hand dropped again. ‘Her sister?’ she gasped, sitting back in the chair in shock.

‘I know. Been at it for months apparently, the dirty dog,’ Mouse tutted, eyes bright with the scandal of it all.

Charlotte rubbed her hands over her face, feeling somehow tainted by the news. ‘Poor Jem, she must be devastated. She’s hardly the most resilient girl.’