Because of his position I was only ever going to be invited there a handful of times. At first, I presumed he would prefer the secrecy of my apartment, but this never seemed to be the case. In fact, he owned similar himself within a kilometre of mine, but we never went there. While I was to be kept away from certain obvious people at his grand home, others, both guests and staff, he was perfectly comfortable to have me around. As time went on, I realised he actually preferred us not to be alone, regardless of how intimate we wished to be. On my first visit, his man, Patrick, was there to help greet me with a glass of champagne on a salver. He told Patrick to “make sure my good friend always has anything she needs”. That’s how he always introduced me, as his “good friend”. It was never as his “lover” or his “mistress”, but then to some this epithet would become completely unnecessary. I told him the champagne was delicious. He was glad I approved; Salon is his favourite brand, the finest blanc de blanc to be had and made only in precious quantities.
