Up all night: dogs, hair and pulling

He'll be bringing his new girlfriend.

"I don't want Jack back, I just want to be hotter than his new girlfriend," Annette says.

"We have to look amazing." She doesn't just mean the two of us. She's including her new puppy, Dorothy.

Dorothy's a dachshund crossed with a teacup yorkie - or a "dorkie". Annette has named her Dorothy Darling Diva and she lives up to it by making us fashionably late for most occasions.

We decide to go for hair appointments - including the dog. Dorothy is booked into Harrods Pet Spa and indeed, we arrive late after she pees on someone's handbag and causes a little argument.

"She only did it because it's an ugly handbag," Annette whispers.

Annette and I then head to Paul Edmonds's salon for Forties-style curl sets. My eyes pop as we pass the beauty treatment rooms. I spot the lady who gave me an intimate Moroccan-style massage at her house this summer. Nothing happened but I'm sure I picked up some flirty vibes.

I know she lives in Bethnal Green so I decide to tell her about the party. I leave my number at reception so that she gets it on her way out.

We go to fetch Dorothy from Harrods. The lady at the pet spa desk seems relieved that we're here.

"She's been distracting one of the other dogs we've been trying to trim," she says.

Dorothy has her nails painted red and her coat is sparkling with gold glitter. But ruining her ladylike look on our way out is a French bulldog sniffing around her. "Whose dog is that?" shouts Annette - just before we spot the handsome man on the end of the bulldog's lead. Annette beams.

"Good girl, Dorothy!"

At the house party, Annette's ex and his girlfriend don't turn up. But none of our hair appointments were in vain - with all three of us finding new dates.

Dorothy's canine Casanova and his dishy owner turn up just before midnight. And just when I think it's too late for me to be in luck, in walks my Moroccan masseuse. After a little more prosecco I'll invite her to meet my boyfriend - in bed.