Up all night: not so sweet as sugar

I'm behind the changing room curtains of Fifi Chachnil's lingerie shop in Knightsbridge with three other girls.

It's as if we're acting out a teenage boy's fantasy, fastening each other's garters, swapping silk slips and adjusting bra straps, but in fact we are all models at the launch of Fifi's new collection.



Finally all of us are ready in our beautiful lingerie inspired by "the seven virtues". I'm wearing "Passion", a short petticoat over a black basque, and I'm looking forward to the evening soirée.

I've invited my best friends, Annette, Octavia and Harriet, to join the celebrations. Their jaws drop as they enter at the sight of the lovely little angora cardigans. Annette fingers a label, "If only sugar daddy was here," she giggles.

A nudge from Harriet silences her and she turns to see a familiar face in the corner of the shop.

It's Peter, her old sugar daddy, browsing the stockings. He and Annette had a very awkward trip to Paris during which he kept trying to give Annette "a massage". Annette didn't want to oblige but realised this would forfeit the shopping part of their expedition. "Concrete wallet", as we affectionately nicknamed him, hasn't noticed Annette yet.

"Hide me!" hisses Annette and we form a protective circle around her and shuffle to the changing rooms. "What's the matter?" I joke through the curtains, "ask him for the angora!"

"I'm never speaking to him ever again," she whispers, "I'm so embarrassed!"

I go to chat with Fifi. I look over at Concrete Wallet and realise he's not alone. Not only that but he's with the one woman that Annette and I truly detest. She's a burlesque dancer like us but the most aloof woman you could ever meet. Whenever we say hello she replies "Do I know you?" even though we've seen each other around for years.

I report back to the changing rooms. "Look who he's with!" We both watch through the curtain as they head for the counter. "Oh my God, he's buying her four lingerie sets!" Annette says under her breath. "He never bought me anything!"



Concrete Wallet hands her the bags and she winks at him smoulderingly. The penny drops - she must be sleeping with him. "Gross!" seethes Annette.

"I'm sure Marilyn Monroe never slept with her sugar daddies!"

"I'm not so sure about that," I reply, but one thing seems certain: Annette had a lucky escape.