‘I think we all just need to calm down,’ I say, surprised at how high tensions are running as Winnie and Max glower at each other. ‘It’s been a stressful week.’

‘And what would you know?’ Max demands, standing up and turning his glare on me. ‘I’m going to get some sleep before I start this fucking run of nights.’

Estelle raises her eyebrows as he storms into his bedroom. We hear the door slam.

‘Max is really on edge,’ Estelle says. ‘What’s wrong with him anyway?’

‘I think it’s the shift work,’ I say. ‘He really hates working nights.’

Winnie looks over at me. ‘Estelle’s been telling me what happened,’ she says, sounding worried.

‘I figured maybe Winnie could give me some advice, since she’s a lawyer.’

‘I work in tax,’ Winnie reminds her.

‘Hey, did you end up finding your keys that night?’ Estelle asks me out of nowhere.

‘Did you lose your keys again?’ Winnie is amused.

‘Yes, I lost them again,’ I snap, ‘but I found them, okay?’ I’m surprised to hear the edge in my own voice. I hadn’t meant to sound so angry. ‘It was a few weeks back.’

Winnie looks affronted. ‘All right, no need to be so aggro.’

‘I’m not!’

Winnie stares at me. ‘Kitty,’ she says gently, ‘what’s wrong?’

We’ve known each other for two decades; I don’t know why I ever thought I could hide anything from her. ‘I have to tell you something,’ I hear myself saying.

Winnie raises her eyebrows.

‘So the night I thought I lost my keys …’

I tell them everything. By the time I finish, with the Smiling Assassin warning me not to tell anyone what I saw or she’ll ruin me, Estelle is shaking her head so hard I think it’s going to fall off, and Winnie is looking appalled.

‘But of course you have to tell someone!’ Winnie exclaims.

There’s a silence.

‘Well, it’s not that simple …’ I say hesitantly.

‘It sounds totally fucked, though,’ Winnie interrupts indignantly. ‘Like, it’s a total abuse of power, not to mention unhygienic. Who blows someone in a place they’re meant to get changed in before doing an operation?’

‘Yes, okay. But what are you proposing? That I go to admin and say I heard my registrar blowing the junior consultant while I was hiding in a utility room late one night?’

Estelle, quick to understand the likely outcome of a very junior doctor going over the heads of her superiors and also adopting the usual medic approach of being a huge fence-sitter, takes my side. ‘I agree. I don’t think you have much choice other than to stay quiet. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t leave this room. We shouldn’t even tell Max or the Godfather.’