‘Chop, chop, Luv. I have a hair appointment to get to.’ I click my fingers in the air, full-on bossy queen mode and rush out the door with renewed happiness and a smile.

My driver obediently tails me, and I don’t stop to look back when I get to the front door.

I sit gracefully, sipping the red wine I poured myself, and patiently watch the cleaners running around with buckets of solution and cloths as they wipe down every surface in sight. They have been at it all day, and ...