She lies, steals and sleeps around, gleefully spreading malicious rumours wherever she goes. I like strong, conniving women with wicked tongues, Roos explains.

“Cut that joshing out,” she said, coolly and briskly. “Who do you think you are talking to? Your check, please. Oh, Lordy!—”

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The click-click-click of strappy stilettos has given way to the clomp-clomp-clomp of platforms and wedges on the Milan catwalk.