‘Good morning,’ said Lloyd, who had a waiter’s apron tied around his waist. ‘Kip tight?’

‘Like a dormule. Tell me, Mr Lloyd, who is in room 902?’

A flicker of consternation crossed his features but it was soon gone.

‘It’s currently empty. We’re not at full capacity, so much the pity.’

‘Has it been used recently?’

‘Not to my knowledge. But I have many duties, and nearly all of them take me away from the front desk.’

‘May I ask you something you can’t repeat?’ I asked, suddenly having an idea.

‘Of course,’ he said.

‘I need extra food over and above Daily Requirements to bulk myself up. Would you know someone who might be able to assist, but with no questions asked?’

The porter nodded his head slowly.

‘Canned or powdered?’

‘Canned. Fruit, rice pudding, beans – that sort of thing.’

‘Risk and rarity quadruple the price tag,’ he said after a pause. ‘You’re not the only person hungry. Forty euros a can, ten per cent discount for twenty or more.’

It was ten times the Summer price, but I wasn’t in a position to dictate terms. I swiftly ordered a hundred cans, mixed contents. Thirty-six-hundred euros.

‘It may take a few days to arrange a wire,’ I said, pretending that I had the funds somewhere. I didn’t, of course. I barely had five hundred in cash. But it was a plan. Or rather, it was the start of a plan.

‘Listen,’ said Lloyd, ‘if you want to earn some food from me, I’ll pay four cans of Ambrosia Creamed Rice for every new guest you can recruit.’

‘Even winsomniacs?’

‘Especially winsomniacs. I can bill their stay to the Winter Asylum Office. Deal?’

‘Deal.’

He smiled and we shook on it.

‘While we’re speaking privately,’ continued the porter, lowering his voice and shifting his weight uneasily, ‘I know about her.’

My heart missed a beat. Porters could always be bought – it was part of their job, pretty much – but continually keeping the information about Birgitta quiet would cost several busloads more than I could ever afford.

‘How long have you known?’ I asked.

‘About half an hour.’

‘You’ve been up to the ninth?’

‘No, she came down here.’

‘She did?’ I said, looking around. ‘Where is she now? Did you put her in the basement?’

‘Look, I know it’s none of my business,’ he said, ‘but can I offer you some advice of a fatherly nature?’

I swallowed nervously, visions of a declaration of disgust followed by an impossibly large bribe looming in my mind.

‘Go on, then.’

‘You seem a sensible person, but you must be out of your tiny mind to be bundling with Aurora, especially when you said you wouldn’t. What will the Chief say when she finds out?’

I breathed a sigh of relief. Birgitta was, for the moment at least, safe.