Since he’d bought the biggest specimen of everything on the list that he could, it wouldn’t surprise me if Sergei would very soon be picking his own bananas without leaving the house, not to mention pineapples.

Of course, he would actually have to get up off the wicker daybed to do that, where he lazily reclined like a pasha, sipping tea while watching me and making earthy suggestions, not all to do with the plants.

Sergei’s book launch party was like a repeat of our engagement party on a much larger scale, and was held in an art gallery, but lots of the guests were invited by the publishers so we didn’t know who half of them were.

As I stood next to him, sipping pink champagne while we talked about our respective writings to all kinds of people, it occurred to me that this was it: I was now a success.

Not only had I just signed a new and lucrative contract with Crimp & Letchworth, I was also engaged to a gorgeous and very famous man, while still having plenty of time to lust after other men as the fancy and inspiration took me. Everything was going so well …

Then Miracle (whom I certainly didn’t invite) loomed up with a one-hit-wonder in tow, but don’t ask me which one, because they all look the same to me, and congratulated me on the deal and the engagement. Then she said I remembered Tanya, didn’t I? And had I heard? Tanya here had sold the film rights to her new book, and she was sure it would be a big commercial success.

Nathan suddenly appeared behind me and said, ‘Don’t you mean they’ve taken an option on it, Miracle? There’s many an option taken up that never gets to be a film, but well done anyway, Tanya.’

That was quite sharp of him, but I was still staring at Tanya and thinking, wow, a film! Now there was a possibility I’d never even thought of before …

As Miracle, smiling stiffly, moved away like a barge attended by a light and giddy skiff, I grasped Nathan by the arm and said urgently, ‘Nathan, about film rights—’

I was right about Sergei’s book, because it bounded up the charts like a monkey up a banana tree, and he was asked to write a biography of a ballerina but he said no, he wasn’t interested in any other dancer’s career, which was honest.