I find her in the car park of one of Dubai's finest international hotels, where she is living, in her Range Rover.
She has been sleeping here for months, thanks to the kindness of the Bangladeshi car park attendants who don't have the heart to move her on.
Johann Hari reports The wide, smiling face of Sheikh Mohammed – the absolute ruler of Dubai – beams down on his creation.
His image is displayed on every other building, sandwiched between the more familiar corporate rictuses of Ronald Mc Donald and Colonel Sanders.
They were largely illiterate nomads who spent their lives driving camels through the desert – yet now they had a vast pot of gold. Dubai only had a dribble of oil compared to neighbouring Abu Dhabi – so Sheikh Maktoum decided to use the revenues to build something that would last.
Israel used to boast it made the desert bloom; Sheikh Maktoum resolved to make the desert boom. Every evening, the hundreds of thousands of young men who build Dubai are bussed from their sites to a vast concrete wasteland an hour out of town, where they are quarantined away.
Daniel woke up and the boy had swallowed razor-blades. But downtown there are traces of the town that once was, buried amidst the metal and glass.
"It was an adult Disneyland, where Sheikh Mohammed is the mouse," she says. You had these amazing big apartments, you had a whole army of your own staff, you pay no taxes at all. We were partying the whole time."Her husband, Daniel, bought two properties. But for the first time in his life, he was beginning to mismanage their finances.
They named it after a local locust, the daba, who consumed everything before it.
The town was soon seized by the gunships of the British Empire, who held it by the throat as late as 1971.
The ubiquitous cranes have paused on the skyline, as if stuck in time.
There are countless buildings half-finished, seemingly abandoned.