‘So what did you do?’ he asked, fascinated. ‘You didn’t creep away in tears. Not you. You went and thumped him.’

‘Neither.’ She paused for dramatic effect. ‘I hardly dare tell you what I did.’

‘Have we got to the bit where you’re unprincipled and vulgar?’ he asked hopefully.

‘We have.’

‘Don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me.’

‘Well, I take my camera everywhere…’

Dante’s crack of laughter seemed to hit the ceiling and echo around the carriage, waking the barman from his doze.

‘You didn’t?’

‘I did. They were wonderful pictures. I took as many as I could from as many different angles as possible.’

‘And he didn’t see you?’

‘He had his back to me,’ Ferne explained. ‘Facing downwards.’

‘Oh yes, naturally. But what about her?’

‘She was facing up and she saw me, of course. She loved it. Then I stormed off in a temper, went straight to the offices of a newspaper that specialised in that sort of thing and sold the lot.’

Awed, he stared at her. ‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that.’

His respect grew in leaps and bounds; a woman who reacted to her lover’s betrayal not with tears and reproaches but with well-aimed revenge was a woman after his own heart.

What couldn’t she do if she set her mind to it?

Would any man of sense want to get on her wrong side?

But her right side-that was a different matter!

‘What happened?’ he demanded, still fascinated.

‘There were ructions, but not for long. The seats had been selling reasonably well, but after that it was standing-room only. She gave an interview about how irresistible he was, and he got offered a big, new film-part. So then he walked out on the show, which annoyed Josh, the director, until the understudy took over and got rave reviews. He was Josh’s boyfriend, so everyone was happy.’

‘Everyone except you. What did you get out of it?’