‘Are you ready, Brit?’ I ask, knocking on her bedroom door. Britney is always late. I hope she has at least finished packing.

‘Come in,’ she calls. Her voice sounds stressed.

I turn the handle and go in. Her room looks like a bomb hit it. There are clothes and shoes all over the bed and floor.

‘What the hell, Brit? We’re going for one day!’ I exclaim incredulously.

‘I know. I know, but I couldn’t decide what to wear. If I take all the clothes and shoes I could conceivably want, then I eliminate the possibility of being devastated that the thing I want to wear is actually back in England,’ she explains with mind-boggling logic.

‘Right,’ I say, blinking slowly. ‘Can we establish that you have got everything you could conceivably want, and that it is safe to close your suitcase and take it downstairs?’

‘I believe so. However, I’ve still got to dash into the shower first.’

‘OK, quickly, please. Victor will be here in ten minutes,’ I appeal, deliberately increasing the urgency in my voice.

‘Don’t worry, he’ll wait,’ she says coolly.

‘I’ll be in my room,’ I say and leave her.

On my bed is my knapsack. I have only packed two changes of clothing and I haven’t taken anything for the concert since Brit and I are going shopping as soon as we get to Milan.

I walk to the window and look out. The street is unusually quiet and I suddenly feel a little sad. I’ve not heard from Cash since last night as he caught his flight whilst we were all asleep. I sent him a warm text when I woke up this morning telling him how excited I was, how much I looked forward to meeting him in Milan and seeing him perform. I guess I expected a text back, something, anything, but nothing.

I feel a dull unease in my stomach, but I tell myself obviously, he would have been terribly busy. Maybe he slept on the flight, and then he will no doubt have been mobbed at the hotel by hordes of screaming teenage girls. From there the band members would have been driven to the stadium for their rehearsals.

A horrible thought suddenly enters my head.

What if it is not the wonderful, funny, beautiful man who seduced me so wickedly who meets me in Milan, but Cash Hunter the Sex God and Bad Boy? What if he is different? What if I am just another girl he had sex with and he has already moved on? The thought disturbs me, but I quickly reassure myself that all will be fine. I shouldn’t be so insecure.

I turn around quickly when I hear Britney’s voice split the still air of the house. Mr. Hunter is out and only Cora is in.

‘I need help Tori, I can’t close my suitcase,’ she cries, standing in her bathrobe, her hair still wet.

‘Don’t worry. Leave it to me,’ I say automatically.

A real struggle ensues, but I overpower her suitcase by sitting on it and pressing down the edges and getting Britney to push down on the locks. She claps her hands in appreciation.

‘Come on, Brit. Dry your hair and get dressed,’ I urge.

‘Yes, mam,’ she says cheekily.

Just as she switches on the hairdryer, the doorbell chimes. I run to the window and see the car parked on the street below.

‘Victor is already outside,’ I shout over the sound of the hairdryer.

‘Your ride’s here. Are you girls ready?’ Cora yells from the bottom of the stairs.

I quickly run to the top of the stairs and scream, ‘Coming,’ and return to rush Britney along. Finally, after her hair is dried and she has flung on some casual clothes, she stands over her suitcase moaning that the case is too heavy to carry. I have a go and even I can barely shift it.

I tell her to wait in the bedroom whilst I quickly take my stuff downstairs to the car and ask the driver if he’d mind carrying Britney’s suitcase from upstairs as it’s too heavy for us. Immediately Victor leaves his seat and goes upstairs.

‘Have a lovely time, won’t you?’ Cora says to me.

‘I’m sure I will,’ I reply as Britney comes down with the driver who looks like he totally underestimated the weight of the case as his face is beetroot red and he’s breathing rather heavily.

‘Thank you so much,’ Britney says as he opens the boot.

I offer to help but, being a man, he refuses and manfully manages on the second clean lift to get it to his chest and into the boot. I wave bye to Cora who’s standing at the door, arms folded and smiling. Britney has already taken her seat inside as the driver goes to the front and I jump in the rear next to Britney.

‘I hope I haven’t forgotten anything?’ she says in a questioning voice.

‘So what if you did?’ I say, turning to her. ‘That would only make our trip into an adventure,’ I say with a grin.

She wrinkles her nose. ‘An adventure? How quaint, but yes, I suppose it could be an adventure.’ She touches my arm. ‘I’m really glad you’re not jaded, Tori. Everybody I know would have made a point of pretending how tedious it all was, but you, you just see everything as if it is an exciting gift.’

‘To be honest I still can’t believe I’m going to Milan on a private jet,’ I say excitedly.

‘Oh, you’ll enjoy it, Tori, it’s really quite the biz. I’ve flown a few times with Cash on his jet and flying commercial simply doesn’t come close after you’ve flown private,’ she says, her voice animated and cheerful.

I grin happily at her. It is wonderful to see how much she has changed, from spoilt and childish to this happy, joyful young lady.

An hour later we arrive at Docklands city airport and our driver pulls up alongside a gleaming silver Embraer Legacy 500 private jet with its door open, a smiling air hostess standing in it. Just like in the movies.

Britney giggles when she sees my gobsmacked reaction. ‘It’s just a plane Tori.’

‘Just a plane?’ I exclaim as Victor opens her door.

‘Close your mouth,’ she says and yanks me out after her.

A man takes our bags and Britney runs up the steps pulling me along as a gust of wind almost blows me off the last one. Inside we are welcomed and shown into the sumptuous cabin. I drop my body into the plush seat and it’s like falling into a luxurious bed. Britney has taken the seat opposite me and she’s laughing at the dazed shock on my face. I laugh at her and then the star treatment starts. Hot towels, followed by pink champagne and a platter of delicious canapés.

‘My God, Britney your brother is a gem. This is just so awesome.’

Britney raises her glass. ‘To us having a fabulous time.’

We clink glasses. ‘To a fabulous time,’ I echo.

‘Yay,’ she yells happily. ‘We’re going to have a brilliant time. I just know it.

I take a sip of the chilled bubbly and lie back. ‘Mmmm.’

Soon the champagne and the fantastic service put me in a relaxed mood. Brit is playing Candy Crush on her mobile and I close my eyes and let my mind wander away to Cash and wonder what he’s doing now. The next thing I know Britney is shaking me enthusiastically. ‘We’re here Tori! We’re here!’

‘What?’ I ask, confused.

‘Look out, we’re above Milan,’ she says.

I pull back my shutter and the bright sunlight temporarily stuns me before I see that she is right, we are just over Milan.

‘It looks amazing,’ I say as the pilot announces that we’re preparing to descend. Britney reaches over for my hand and holds it tightly in hers. A few minutes later, touchdown. Milano.