She feels his warmth soothe the fused and sparking ends of her adrenalized impulses. Feels his kind eyes glance at her collarbone and follows his gaze down the waves of hair covering her breasts. He looks at her again, as if to say: OK? Are we OK about this?

And she pulls his head to hers, kissing him. She can smell his deodorant and his skin.

She takes him to bed.

Afterwards, they shower, separately. They are shy with each other and dress hurriedly. Aware, too, that if Maisie returns then they must be dressed. And if Maisie doesn’t return soon, they need to go and look for her.

As Adam darts around trying to find his T-shirt he says, ‘Are we? You know was that all ri …? I thought it was …’

Becky goes to him and kisses him again and smiles. ‘Yes. I am glad. Yes and yes. Now, Maisie,’ she says. ‘Hurry up.’

‘She probably wants us to go looking for her.’

‘You’re not just saying that to make me feel OK about looking for her?’

‘No,’ he says, smiling. ‘I want to find her as well.’

‘You don’t think something’s happened, do you?’

‘It’ll be fine,’ he says.

And a spark lights, scalding, inside her. She wants to say: Stop saying that to me. You don’t know that everything will be fine.

But she says nothing.

As they walk down the hotel corridor together Adam says, ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘You will anyway.’

‘Not if it makes you feel uncomfortable, the last thing I want to do is make you feel …’

‘How I am supposed to know if you don’t …’

‘OK. Those things, on the inside of your thigh.’

‘Oh.’ There are three or four of them, neat blood-mark snips, high up, where you’d only find them if you’d been as close as he just has.

‘Did you, you know … do it to yourself?’

‘Yes,’ she says. Ashamed, relieved.

He glances at her as they continue to walk. She doesn’t need to look at how deep the concern has sunk into his skin, she can hear it in his voice.

‘But that’s worse than the bruising? I thought you said you’d stopped doing all that but, look, I don’t want it to sound like pressure, I just wondered if all this Amber Heath stuff is making you a bit … I dunno, the stress of trying to keep your film afloat?’

‘It hasn’t been fun.’

He grasps her hand. ‘You know I’ll look after you if it falls apart.’