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‘Fine, Mother,’ I say, cramming some mints into my mouth to relieve the dryness.

‘Well, that’s not quite how your sister put it this morning when I spoke to her. She says you didn’t come home last night and over fifty of her followers were all worried sick about her being worried sick. Now listen to me,’ she says, all direct and cold-hearted. ‘She is your sister.’

‘Mother. That is hardly breaking news,’ I reply petulantly. Honestly, she brings out the worst in me.

‘Don’t be childish,’ she warns. ‘You must forgive her and move on. Simple as that.’

I am gobsmacked.

‘So, you are admitting that it was all her fault?’ I ask incredulously.

‘Ava knows what she did was wrong, but she was in a very difficult position,’ my mother continues. See? Always on her side. ‘You must give her a chance to explain herself. It’s not as straightforward as you think.’

‘Oh, I think it is straightforward, Mother,’ I say, my mood plummeting rather rapidly. ‘She ruined my life, and you took her side. You all stabbed me in the back!’

I hear my mother take in a sharp breath. ‘Oh, baby girl,’ she says quietly. ‘Is that what you really think?’

She sounds upset now. A lump is forming in my throat, but I refuse to answer. I’m not being manipulated by this woman again.

‘You were ill, my darling. That job was squeezing the life out of you. We could all see it.’

I immediately stiffen. The familiar heavy feeling of anxiety descends fast. How dare she!

‘Mother, I have to go,’ I say, slamming down the phone. Trust her to ruin my morning. A quick look at the time tells me it’s too late to go back to the villa to change. I thump around the office getting ready for my first client.

I stop for a brief moment to sigh heavily, allowing a wave of apprehension to engulf me. It’s draining.

I’m still thrown, even as Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen arrives at the office. Exhausted, I find myself saying a pleasant good morning only to see her eyes balloon in surprise. She gingerly hands me the notes for my first client. She will be wondering why I am not yelling ‘Notes! Notes! Get me the notes!’ I simply have not got the energy for it today. As long as no one mentions the coach trip, which will definitely be a trigger, we should just about scrape through the day.

This little blip will not get me down. I am resilient. I am hardy and strong. I am still wearing a peacock-blue kimono.

‘Who’s next?’ I call, disappearing into the sanctuary of my office.

‘It is the laughing guy. The one you hate so much,’ she yells through. ‘He says it’s urgent, but he makes no appointment for this morning,’ she says with a roll of her eyes at the inconvenience, as I dart back through to reception.

‘You mean the one from the ICF? The tall one? The Scottish one?’

My mind flies to our booking system. The one designed to prevent this sort of thing happening. She has one job. One job.

‘Sí. I tell him that you are in the Bahamas for avoiding tax reasons, but he still says he is coming.’ She shrugs her shoulders as if to say, ‘Meh, what can you do?’

Shite. Between my sister turning our home into a knocking shop within hours of her arrival and my mother, I forgot to check the diary.

No, this cannot be happening. And the fact that I slept here and didn’t bring an overnight bag isn’t helping. I race back into my office and over to the mirror. I have no spare make-up, no spare set of beautifully lined expensive suits and no sexy footwear. I had to clean my teeth with an extra-large mint this morning for God’s sake.

A knock at the door has me jumping out of my skin. I swivel round to see Ava standing there. Could things get any worse?

‘Fuck off!’ I yell at her. Her face immediately crumples as she turns to leave. ‘Wait!’ I shout and wave her in. It’s like I’ve developed Tourette’s around her.

‘Look, you’ve caught me at a bad moment, okay?’ I explain. She looks at me and nods in understanding.

‘It’s okay,’ she says, ‘I’ll go.’ Before she leaves, she turns and tells me that I have a really nice office. I nod back at her. Then she asks, ‘Is it anything I could help with?’

Like I’d need her help.

‘No, not unless you have a magic wand that can make me look amazing in less than…’ I take a huge breath in and yell through to Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen, ‘Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen? What time is he coming?’

‘In ten minoots!’ she shouts back. Ava and I trade glances.