‘Natalia, we can never thank you enough for your generosity, so … I’ll spare your blushes. Enough’s enough, but one more toast, please, ladies and gentlemen … NATALIA!’

‘NATALIA!’

Pig Sean put his shades on.

‘Can I go now?’ he said petulantly. ‘I’m starting my set at Space in two hours.’

‘Feel free,’ said Poppy, winking at Bella. ‘And I’d like to thank you for being so gracious and accommodating. It’s really made my wedding special.’

As Pig Sean walked along the edge of the pool to collect his DJ stuff, Poppy gave him a little shove. Caught off guard, he went flying into the water. The look of indignation on his arrogant face was priceless, and although (or perhaps because) Poppy’s gesture was so childish, all the people who generally considered themselves sophisticated pissed themselves laughing.

Natalia’s white-blonde hair was wavy about her face, her slanty, wide-apart eyes almost invisible with laughter.

‘Oh, you guys,’ she eventually spluttered. ‘I cannot recall more fun ever. Thank you!’

She reclined on one of her incredibly expensive sun loungers and looked up at the stars, laughing happily.

She was still smiling to herself as she sat on her terrace, at the top of her tower – the one above the semicircular chill-out room. She had just risen and the party was still going strong somewhere in her massive villa, but she, Natalia, had had enough by about six a.m. and had taken herself up to her own private sanctum.

She had a baby hangover, but that was OK. It had been worth it. Natalia only took two, maybe three lines of cocaine on special occasions, and she paced herself with the champagne. She had always had to keep her wits about her. For a moment, she felt envious of Poppy and Bella, so stupidly wasted in the pool, and having so much fun – the worst they could ever have from a hangover was embarrassment. Natalia knew differently.

She could hear some music. Aha – that’s where they all were – around the back, singing along to some ridiculous song about being in the mood for dancing. Then multiple splashes. The deep thud thud thud of a very different kind of dance music had been reverberating, almost lulling her to sleep, yet now they put on this? Again, she envied their total confidence that whatever rubbish (and this music was rubbish) they played, nobody would sneer. She loved the fact that people were enjoying her hospitality, but it was bittersweet. She could never really be one of them, not with her past.

She heard Bella trying to whisper, but actually shrieking quite loudly, ‘Shhh, maybe we should turn it down a bit? Natalia’s probably still trying to sleep.’

Sweet girl. Sweet life.

But she was a little bit hungry now. Natalia needed her pineapple, mango and green tea in the morning. She laughed to herself as she recalled what hunger used to be, when she would devour bread because there was nothing else. These idiots with their intolerances. Bread and milk were the staff of life when you had that perpetual gnawing hunger pain. The self-indulgence of pampered Western women, claiming they were intolerant to wheat or ‘dairy’ made her quite sick. However, she had adapted, and realized that by cutting them out, she could keep the remarkably slender frame she’d had since her teens. Her stomach was as flat as it had ever been.