The second time she saw him was that morning. She’d woken up to find Erica sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, staring straight at her, her knees hugged to her chest, her face blotchy from crying. When Jenna asked what was wrong Erica had buried her face in her knees.

‘What’s the matter?’ Jenna had asked gently. ‘What is it?’

When she’d reached out a hand and touched her lightly on the calf Erica jumped as though she’d been burnt.

‘You know what I’ve been through and you still betrayed me.’

‘Betrayed you?’ Had Jenna said something she shouldn’t? Shared something Erica told her in confidence? She’d searched her memory and come up blank. ‘How?’

‘Just go away,’ Erica had screeched. ‘Just leave me alone.’

Jenna went in search of Tom. She’d eventually tracked him down to the waste ground behind the hotel where he was stripped down to a black vest and cargo shorts, lugging bits of timber around as a couple of local carpenters helped him build the sweat lodge out of tarpaulin, plastic sheeting and wood. He hadn’t looked the slightest bit surprised when Jenna had told him that Erica was hysterical. Instead, he’d thanked her for telling him and, after a brief word with the carpenters, he’d headed back to the hotel.

Now, as Jenna joins the others in the centre of the marquee, Erica takes herself off to one corner. She gathers her long blonde hair in her hands, twists it into a pony tail and pulls it forward over one shoulder. She strokes it, moving her hands from root to tip: a repetitive, self-soothing motion Jenna’s seen her do many times before. Just a few hours ago she’d looked and sounded distraught, but she seems calmer now, more focused. Her breakdown had come from nowhere, or at least that’s the way it had appeared to Jenna. Erica had been fine at bedtime the night before, chatty and excited about the sweat lodge ceremony the next day and then suddenly, in the morning, there were sobs and tears and a rant about Jenna betraying her. Was she upset because Jenna had gone to the spa alone the day before? Did she feel rejected because Jenna hadn’t asked her to join her? Had it brought up memories of Erica’s dad walking out? Jenna heads towards her, squeezing through the crowd. She’s only a couple of metres away when Alan cuts in front of her, his curly hair a halo around his pink, sweaty face and his chest hair peeping through a gap in his dressing gown.

‘Jenna! Can you believe it’s finally happening? The sweat lodge. We’re finally going to get to do it!’

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Erica drift away.

‘Do you think you’ll do the whole thing?’ Alan asks. ‘Stay in there until the end?’