The entire line-up of Heaven Sent 7 has just appeared on the red carpet, and a bunch of teenage girls is screaming hysterically. I can’t help feeling a thrill. They’re huge! I so want to share this with someone. I automatically pull out my phone, and start to text – and then stop, mid-word. I can’t share it with Luke. Or Suze. Or Mum.

Or Dad, obviously.

Or … anyone.

Without meaning to, I heave a miserable sigh, then immediately plaster a wide smile on, to compensate. I can’t be sighing on the red carpet. That’s a ridiculous idea! It’s all good. It’s all fab. It’s—

Oh, there’s Aran, looking immaculate in a black tuxedo and open-collared blue shirt. Feeling a surge of relief, I hurry over to him. His hands are in his pockets and he’s watching Sage, with that wry, detached expression he has. Sage has found a little mini trench coat from somewhere, and has put it on over her dress and is talking eagerly to a queue of interviewers.

‘Hey, Becky.’ Aran kisses me lightly on each cheek. ‘Having a good time?’

‘Yes!’ I say automatically. ‘It’s wonderful!’

‘Good.’ He smiles. ‘I’m glad.’

‘Although, did you see Sage’s dress? It totally collapsed.’

He rolls his eyes. ‘Believe me, I saw that.’

‘She was lent that dress by a friend of mine. He’s a really famous designer. And she ruined it on purpose.’ I’m trying not to sound accusing, but I can’t help it.

‘Ah.’ Aran winces. ‘Well, I’m sure we can figure out compensation—’

‘It’s not the money! It’s just so inconsiderate. And now I can’t let anyone know I’m her stylist. I mean, that was the point of tonight; to launch myself as a stylist! I sourced her that dress and she would have looked amazing, but then she goes and deliberately sabotages it …’ My voice is trembling. I think I’m more upset than I quite realized.

‘Uh-huh.’ Aran surveys me as though he’s working something out. ‘Did you meet Nenita yet?’

‘No.’

‘Well, we’ll fix that up.’

‘OK. Thanks.’ To my dismay, a tear has come to one of my eyes. I wipe it hastily away and smile, but Aran has noticed.

‘You all right, Becky?’

‘Kind of.’ I gulp. ‘Not really. My dad’s gone missing and I had a row with Luke, and then I had one with my best friend, too … No one gets it. This.’ I spread my arms around.

‘You don’t surprise me,’ says Aran.

‘Really?’

‘It happens. You’re not a civilian any more, remember?’

He sounds totally unmoved, and I suddenly feel a pang of frustration at his easy-going, Teflon manner. If the world ended, he’d probably just shrug and say, ‘That’s the way it rolls.’

And what did he mean, You don’t surprise me?

‘Let me find Nenita.’ He pats me on the shoulder.

As Aran heads off, I look around again, trying to savour the experience, but suddenly I’m finding it a bit jarring. Everything’s so bright. The white smiles, the cameras flashing, the sequins and jewels and shrieking. It’s like, even the air is alive with electricity. My hair is prickling with it, and my leg is tingling …

Oh. Actually, that’s my phone, buzzing. I grab it out of my clutch, and it’s Suze. I feel a dart of terror and jab the Answer button.

‘Is everything OK?’ I demand. ‘Has anything happened?’

‘Oh God, Bex.’ Suze sounds despairing, and I feel a lurch of fright. ‘Alicia’s found out some information. They’ve gone off with Bryce.’

‘Bryce?’ I stare at the phone, not quite understanding. ‘Bryce from Golden Peace?’

‘Your dad had some mission and he asked Tarkie to help him carry it out. And Tarkie asked Bryce to come with them. Bryce! Alicia reckons he’s just after our money. He wants to set up some rival centre, and he’s going to brainwash Tarkie into funding it, and we have no idea where they’ve gone …’

‘Suze, calm down,’ I say desperately. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘But he’s evil!’ She sounds almost hysterical. ‘And they’ve driven off into the desert with him!’

‘We’ll find them. We will. Suze, just try to get as much information as you can …’ She’s trying to say something else, but I can’t make it out. Her voice is crackling and breaking up. ‘Suze?’

My phone goes dead and I stare at it in dismay. Bryce. Tarquin. My dad. In the middle of nowhere. What’s Mum going to say? What are we going to do?

‘Becky.’ Aran is at my side again. ‘Let me take you to meet Nenita.’ His eyes twinkle. ‘She’s a pretty big deal in your world, huh?’

‘Um … yes. Massive.’ In a daze, I follow him across the red carpet, stumbling slightly in my heels. This is the biggest moment of my career. Meeting Nenita Dietz. I have to put my personal life aside. I have to focus.

Nenita Dietz is holding forth to a group of people, and we wait patiently at the side until she pauses. She looks amazing. She’s in a massive blue fur coat and spiky metallic boots. Her long, dark wavy hair is shining with red and gold highlights under the spotlights and she must be wearing at least three pairs of false eyelashes. From here she looks like a fairy princess.

‘Nenita Dietz,’ Aran says pleasantly. ‘Let me present Becky Brandon.’

‘Becky!’

As I take her hand I feel like I’m meeting the queen. I mean, she is the queen of Hollywood stylists.

‘Hello!’ I gabble nervously. ‘I love your work. Actually, my background’s fashion, too. I was a personal shopper at Barneys and I’d love to get into styling and I’m such an admirer of yours. Especially of Clover. The clothes were exquisite.’

I’ve mentioned Clover because it’s a very low-budget film that she did a few years ago, which most people haven’t even heard of, and I’m hoping to get some Brownie points. But Nenita doesn’t seem interested in my opinion of Clover.

‘You.’ She points at me with narrowed eyes. ‘You’re the young woman who saw Lois stealing and told the world.’

‘Um, yes. I mean, no. I only told one person … or maybe two …’

‘Lois is a wonderful girl,’ she says with emphasis. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’ Her words feel like a slap, and I start backwards.

‘I didn’t mean to cause any harm,’ I say hastily. ‘And I honestly didn’t tell the world …’

‘You’ll bring bad karma into your life, you realize that?’ As she leans forward, I can see that her eyes are all yellowed, and her hands are a lot older than her face. She actually looks quite intimidating.

‘Lois’s doing fine, Nenita,’ says Aran. ‘You know that.’

‘Bad karma.’ She fixes me with her yellow gaze and jabs a finger at me again. ‘Bad karma into your life.’

I’m trying not to recoil in horror. I feel like she’s putting a curse on me.

‘Also, your dress is dated,’ she adds disdainfully, and I feel a prickle of outrage on Danny’s behalf. ‘Nevertheless,’ she says, as though bestowing on me a massive honour, ‘I can see that you, young woman, are like me. When you really want something, you have to have it.’ Her eyes run appraisingly over me again. ‘You may call me.’

She hands me a silver-edged card with a telephone number on it, and Aran raises his eyebrows.

‘Well done, Becky!’ he murmurs. ‘Nice job!’

I stare down at the card, feeling a bit dizzy. I’ve done it. I’ve actually made contact with Nenita Dietz.

The crowd is moving towards the movie-theatre entrance, surging around us, and a bulky man bumps into me, causing me to drop my bag. As I stand, I see I’ve been split up from Nenita and Aran and the crush is increasing. Girls in black suits are circulating, telling everyone that the movie will start soon, could they please take their seats. Feeling a bit like a zombie, I follow them in. The foyer is crowded with people and cameras and journalists, and I just let the throng propel me forward. A pleasant young man shows me to a seat in the auditorium, where I find a complimentary bottle of water and some popcorn and a circus-themed goodie bag.

I’m here! I’m one of the in-crowd! I’m in a top seat at a premiere! I have Nenita Dietz’s card and an invitation to call her!

So … why do I feel so hollow? What’s wrong?

My leather seat seems chilly and the air conditioning is making me shiver. As music starts blasting through the speakers, I jump. This should be the biggest treat ever, I keep telling myself. Suze’s voice is ringing in my ears: I hope you have the time of your life – and my own defiant reply, I will.

But the truth is: I’m not. I’m sitting in a cold, dark room full of strangers, about to watch a movie I don’t want to see, without any friends or family to share it with. I’m not famous. Everyone was calling me Betty. I’m not Betty, I’m Becky.

I finger Nenita’s card to reassure myself. But even that feels toxic in my fingers. Do I want to work with that scary witch? Do I want to be her? I feel as though I’ve reached the oasis mirage in the desert. I’m scooping up sand and I’m telling myself it’s fresh and pure water … but it’s not.

I’m breathing harder and harder; my thoughts are whirling around my head; I’m gripping the armrests of my seat until my fingers hurt. And suddenly I’ve had enough. I can’t stay here. I don’t want to be here. I have other, far more important things in my life than a red carpet and celebrities. I have my family and my friends, and a problem to sort out, and a husband to win back, and a best friend to help. That’s what I have. And I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to see that.

I have to leave. Right now.

Muttering apologies to the people around me, I get up and make my way to the side of the auditorium. The seats are full by now and a man in a dinner jacket has just started making a speech at the front, and all the attendants are giving me odd looks … but I don’t care. I need to get out. I need to talk to Suze as soon as I can. She probably hates me. I don’t blame her. I hate me, too.