The phone rang one afternoon. It was the 1990s and the caller was an assistant of , who, while not a friend, was an acquaintance of mine. Ghislaine, I was told, wanted to know if I would have dinner in a restaurant with .Not keen to end up on the menu myself, I asked who else would be present. ‘You and a few other girls.’This was the second time I had been importuned by Ms Maxwell. Not long before, Ghislaine had invited a friend and me to ’s hotel suite. The former U.S. President had been visiting England solo and lacked female company.
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