Olivia Bentley – who LIED about being a Bentley heiress – is speaking really quickly. She blames soya milk and oestrogen. I blame the old Charley Chalk. She’s SLAMMING Toff’s job at The Lady, but at least Toff doesn’t need to pretend she’s an automobile heiress like some people I might mention.


Speaking of The Lady – Toff is there, beavering away on her computer at what is, frankly, a sub-standard and slightly underwhelming-looking desk. Like, she’s sitting on one of those blue office chairs. I’d have thought they sit on thrones at The Lady. Or saddles.


JP can’t find his golf ball and cries on the fairway (not because of that though). Binky and he are over and she has fled to Heathrow airport. Presumably to board a plane and go somewhere on it.

Francis is reminding himself that he should write more poetry and then recites an impromptu verse about ponds and herons and nature. Steph is jogging past and suggests they let their hair down soon and that he wears a deep V-neck (which isn’t a euphemism for an overused reproductive organ).


So Sam walked in on his sister rogering her robot boyfriend and stuck around long enough to watch him “slowly pull a rug over his penis”. As if that couldn’t get any more horrendous, Sam announces he is wearing the robot’s boxers! WHY? PLEASE GOD, SOMEONE TELL ME WHY! Anyway, Toff and Jess pop in to see Sam and Tiff and hatred is rife between the girls but Toff “does the right thing” and invites Tiff to her forthcoming party. Sod that. Stay at home where you belong Tiff with your vegan bread.

Frankie decides to list the pros and cons about Jamie. The cons are that he is a two-faced, selfish, stressy people pleaser. The pros are that he has a nice cleaner.

Sam and Tiff go to The Flower Lounge to buy Toff some berries and bark for her birthday and Sam reveals his plans to tell Toff off – at her party, of course. Tiff makes it perfectly clear that Toff will not be asked to be the godmother of her and Sam’s non-existent (and very unfortunate) child.


Toff’s party is an odd affair, with few guests. Mark Francis and Francis are there. Remember when they bitched in Cannes? Well they still don’t like each other in London. Steph announces that she is having a dinner party and will be sitting herself between Julius and Mytton because she’s always thought he’s cute. When she last said that a load of people literally wanted to burn her for witchcraft so good for you Steph for not giving a shite anymore.

Binky’s back from sitting on the revolving luggage conveyor belt at Heathrow and goes round to talk to Rosie and Wheeze who are all of a sudden on JP’s side even though it was THEM who were championing Julius on the camping trip when Binky fed Julius a marshmallow. Rosie tells Binky she has taken the piss. Excuse me but when did she suddenly like JP? Have I passed out and missed something?


At Steph’s dinner party the shit hits the fan and everyone yells at each other as is the fashion, which leads Julius to storm off to the library. Steph follows him and joins him by the fire and lays her cards right out. She calls him gay and he calls her Pratty and the chemistry is all over the shop and I’m not going to lie, I want to join in somehow.


Janie takes Binky out for dinner, away from Steph’s gathering and appears to be of the same mindset as me (of course) that Rosie has inexplicably changed her tune. She has literally gone from a B sharp to a D minor. “Drink up; it helps,” says Janie, which really is the best advice a mother can give.


Next week’s predictions: It looks like Steph is going for it with Julius and I am enjoying the prospect of watching their blonde union.

– A

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