At the other end of the phone, Jack laughed as he heard Poppy trying to rouse her husband.

‘Darling, darling, sweetheart, darling, wake up, wake up, wake up, you’ve got a phone call …’

‘Urgh …?’ Damian opened his eyes groggily.

‘Just take the call!’ Impatiently, Poppy shoved her phone at him.

Unbeknownst to her husband, she’d given Jack a photocopy of Damian’s screenplay, under the condition that if he thought it was rubbish it must never be mentioned again. She had just known that Damian wouldn’t have agreed to her helping like that, but thought that he might, just about, accept it as a fait accompli.

‘What?’ Damian said, sitting up naked in the pink-and-white bed. ‘She did what?’

Poppy decided not to look at him until he’d heard Jack out. She got out of bed and stared out at the snow, falling even more thickly now, giving Damian a good view of her perfect little bottom.

After hanging up, Damian walked over to Poppy and put his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shiny blonde head.

‘You went behind my back and showed my screenplay to Jack Meadows …’ he started slowly.

‘Oh, don’t be cross; please, don’t be cross,’ Poppy babbled, turning round to face him. But as she did she saw that his face was wreathed in smiles.

‘He loves it, Pops! He loves it! He wants to turn it into a major motion picture! He has huge clout with the studios – everything he touches turns to gold. Just think … Jack Meadows starring in my movie!’

Poppy thought that now wasn’t the time to remind him that he’d once referred to Jack as a ‘gobshite son-of-a-rock-star twat’. Instead, she jumped up and down, clapping and laughing. ‘Yippee, yippee, yippee!’

‘Does this mean I’m forgiven?’ she asked, after a bit.

‘You’ve got a bloody nerve, young lady; but, yes, this time I’d say you’re forgiven.’

And Damian took his wife by the hand and led her back to bed.

In another hotel room the other side of town, Ben and Natalia were just stirring.

Ben had booked the ridiculously decadent and romantic Round Bed room in the Portobello Hotel, the one where Johnny Depp had shared a champagne bath with Kate Moss. The muslin-draped bed was indeed round, and an antique Victorian bathing machine, equipped with all manner of intriguing-looking hosing devices, took pride of place in the open-plan en suite bathroom.

‘Hello, Mr Movie Star,’ said Natalia, smiling lazily.

‘Hello, Ms Beautiful.’

Ben leant over and started to kiss her. Her lips parted and soon they were writhing about together, each lost in the other’s warm, human, sexual self. Natalia ran her hand through Ben’s silky hair, then let it drift down his beautifully muscled body until she found his cock. Already, there was a tiny droplet of semen on the end of it.

‘Oh, God,’ she whispered, using it to moisten her fingertips and run them up and down the shaft. ‘Oh, my God.’ She still couldn’t believe that this beautiful, beautiful man was all hers.