It was the sound of laughter from the living room – and a burst of terrible paranoia – that had driven Kate out of her bedroom and down the stairs. Was Caroline behind it? Was she slagging off the retreat and making the others laugh? Or was the laughter hers and Geraldine’s? Had she missed her chance by retreating to her room? Had Caroline already destroyed her reputation? Was it too late?

Kate freezes as Caroline and Geraldine pass the bottom of the stairs. Geraldine is slumped against Caroline, her arm around her shoulder, her head resting on the top of Caroline’s head.

‘I think the wine was bad,’ Geraldine slurs. ‘I never … I never norm … is fine … I can walk by myself.’

As they disappear in the direction of the bedrooms, Kate walks down the stairs. She stands at the bottom, watching as Caroline and Geraldine stumble along the corridor. When they enter Geraldine’s bedroom and disappear she hurries after them and waits, out of sight, near the open door. If any of the other guests spot her she’s got an excuse. She’s come to help but she doesn’t want to intrude, not until Joy’s got Geraldine into her nightclothes and into her bed.

She hears the slump of Geraldine falling onto her bed, a low groan then the double clunk of shoes being dropped to the floor – all accompanied by Caroline’s voice:

‘Can you undo the button on your trousers? No, okay. I’ll do it. You push them down.’

‘Do you feel sick? I’ve put your bin directly by the bed.’

‘There’s water on the bedside table.’

‘Okay, I think we’re done. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.’

Kate takes a few steps back into the corridor. Seconds later, Caroline emerges from Geraldine’s room and gasps.

‘Kate!’ She presses a hand to her heart and in that split second reaction Kate sees Caroline, and not Joy. ‘You gave me a shock.’

‘Geri all right? I heard she’d been sick.’

‘Yeah, yes.’ Effortlessly, Caroline slips back into her bumbling smiling Joy persona. ‘I think we got carried away with the drinking games.’

‘How funny,’ Kate says, smiling sweetly as rage flares through her like wild fire. ‘Can we have a chat? In the therapy room where we can have a bit of privacy?’

Joy gives an exaggerated yawn. ‘Sorry,’ she says as she removes her hand from her mouth. ‘Can it wait until tomorrow? I’m still not quite recovered from white-water rafting and it’s very late.’

Didn’t stop you from chucking my wine down your fat little throat, Kate thinks. They won’t have put any money in the honesty box. They never do.

‘It won’t take long,’ she says. ‘Then you can get yourself off to bed.’