Sadie just about managed to stop herself from grinning back and snapping back into ‘boss’ mode she said, ‘Yes, well, just remember that at this end of the business the clients prefer their chauffeurs politely invisible.’

‘No singing, then?’

‘Singing?’

‘I find it keeps the passengers from using bad language…’

‘I’m serious!’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Right. Well, come on. I’ll brief you on Sheikh Zahir’s itinerary while you change. This is a full dress uniform job. And yes, before you ask, that includes the hat.’

‘Sh…Sh-Sheikh?’

Diana thought she’d managed to cover her near slip pretty well, but Sadie’s quick glance suggested that she was not fooled.

‘Sheikh Zahir al-Khatib is the nephew of the Emir of Ramal Hamrah, cousin of his country’s ambassador to London and a billionaire businessman who is single-handedly turning his country into the next über-fashionable get-away-from-it-all tourist destination.’

Diana instantly lost any inclination to sing. ‘He’s a genuine A-list VIP, then.’

‘You’ve got it. The Mercedes is at his disposal full-time while he’s in London. The hours will, inevitably, be unpredictable but if you can hold the fort for me today, I’ll have someone else lined up to take over tomorrow.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Diana said a touch fiercely, hoping to counteract the initial impression of irresponsibility. She might not be Jack Lumley, but her passengers were never short-changed. ‘I can handle it. At least until Jack has recovered.’

This was the chance she’d been waiting for, an opportunity to prove herself capable of taking on the big jobs, to move up from the no-frills end of the market-the school bus, the airport runs-to driving one of Capitol’s limousines and big money; she wasn’t about to meekly surrender the Mercedes to the first man to recover control of his stomach.

‘Give me a chance, Sadie. I won’t let you down.’