‘It’s not, though, actually.’ I trailed wearily up the stairs to finish dressing. ‘It’s not very nice at all.’

I didn’t bother to check the card. I already knew what the message would say. The same as the last bunch had. ‘In Loving Memory of Maggie.’

By the time I reached the office, two strong cups of coffee later, I was feeling revived enough to have punched Alex’s previously deleted number into my mobile with some considerable aggression. He didn’t answer, so I left a short sharp message about keys and estate agents and how being grossly inconsiderate was his absolute forte. I was pretty sure he hadn’t told me about the appointment.

I’d shoved the lilies into the wheelie-bin outside the flat as I left and tried to forget about them, determined that today I’d explain to Charlie why I couldn’t work for him any more, whatever his threats. It was time to take charge.

But in the foyer I couldn’t find my pass anywhere, and the new security guard refused to let me through. I rang up to the office to get someone to fetch me, and then I upended my bag on the floor. I was fumbling through the debris of a few months when I heard my name.

‘Maggie, isn’t it?’

I peered up at the owner of the shoes hovering beside the pile of bus tickets, old ChapSticks, newspaper cuttings and bar bills that detailed my recent life.

‘Sebastian Rae.’ He was smiling down at me, that small scar very white above his lip, his dark hair tousled over his dark eyes. ‘We met at Bel’s party. Need a hand?’

‘Of course. I mean – no, sorry, I’m fine. Thanks.’ I pushed my own hair off my face, wishing desperately that I’d bothered to put make-up on this morning or had actually dried the stylish new cut which was no doubt sticking out at odd angles by now. ‘How come – what are you doing here?’

‘I just had a casting upstairs, with Granada. New detective series. Sure I can’t help?’

‘No, really, thanks.’ Shoving everything back into the bag, a solitary tampon rolled along the marble floor towards Sebastian’s foot. I scrambled to retrieve it, blushing as red as the Royal Mail van pulling up outside. ‘Just lost my pass, you know. I seem to lose everything these days!’ I stood up. ‘How did it go?’

He looked puzzled.

‘The audition.’

‘Oh, fine, I think. It’s always hard to tell. The ones you think went brilliantly are never the ones you get.’

‘It must be so hard. I can’t think of anything worse.’

‘You get used to it. And you…?’

‘What?’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I work here.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘Yeah, I’m – I work on Renee Reveals.’ I found I was actually ashamed to admit it, but he looked vaguely impressed.

‘Aha! The deadly Renee!’