The noise of my alarm clock was hideous. Why wouldn’t it stop? And what on earth had happened to my pillows? They were really uncomfortable. I flapped my arm to try to turn it off, but someone caught hold of my hand. The skin was dry and exceptionally soft and I recognized it as Betsy. The knowledge that she was there brought a rush of tears to my eyes.

‘Look, she’s coming round now. Thank God,’ said Betsy, sounding relieved.

‘Still, it’s best to let the paramedics check her over.’ That was Marjorie.

The noise had stopped, thank goodness. It wasn’t my alarm at all, I realized; it was an ambulance siren. I’m fine, I wanted to say, but couldn’t quite muster up the energy to speak.

A friendly male voice took charge. ‘All right then, folks; can you make some room for us please.’

‘Who have we got here?’ The second voice was female.

‘Lottie Allbright,’ said Jensen. ‘She stood up too quickly and stumbled forward, hit her head on that metal pole, I think, and fell back on to the concrete.’

‘Then she was sick.’ That sounded like one of the boys.

I groaned inwardly. That meant everyone was probably standing right by my vomit. Great.

‘I thought she looked peaky earlier,’ Betsy said. ‘I shouldn’t have asked her to do that last tour. I feel awful now.’

There was a crash as someone stumbled and knocked over the empty wine bottles.

‘Looks as if someone’s been celebrating,’ said the male voice.

‘Has she been drinking?’ asked the female.

There was a humming and hawing.

‘Yes, but not a lot,’ said Jensen eventually.

‘I see.’ The woman gave a weary sigh and picked up my wrist, checking my pulse. ‘Lottie? Can you hear me?’

I opened my eyes and blinked blearily at a huge crowd of faces peering back at me. ‘Urgh.’

‘Step back, give her some space please, folks.’

Nobody moved at first.

‘She might be sick again.’

That worked.

Jensen took my other hand, his face etched with worry. ‘Hi, is there anyone you want me to call?’

I shook my head, too mortified to look at him. Two minutes after him asking me to dinner, I’d thrown up in front of him. Nice one, Lottie … I wondered where Sidney had gone? What a welcome I’d given him. This was too awful for words. What I really wanted to do was crawl off to bed and sleep and have nobody staring at me.

‘We’ll take her in, check her out for concussion or alcohol poisoning.’

‘Not drunk,’ I croaked pathetically. ‘Just want sleep.’

‘I’ll go with her,’ Clare offered as one of the paramedics fetched a stretcher. ‘My son played rugby; A&E was our second home when he was a boy.’

I smiled weakly at her, thinking that a hug from Clare was possibly all the treatment I needed.