We went to look outside, where Cilla showed us the covered entertaining area and the automated watering systems. We toured the downstairs bathroom, whose cabinets were lined with LED lights. Reverently, Pete flushed the toilet to test its pressure.

‘There’s also this,’ Cilla said. She walked over to a wall. She retrieved another tiny remote, pressed a button, and the three of us stood in mute politeness as the blinds unrolled themselves slowly, smoothly, leaving the room in an artificial twilight. We stood in the intimate darkness for a moment. Then Cilla pressed another button and we watched the process reverse itself, the blind curling up and putting itself away.

‘State-of-the-art,’ Cilla said.

After the display ended we all kept staring at the blind for a moment, as though it might complete another trick.

Cilla turned to us. ‘To the master bedroom?’ she said.

She went to lead the way but Pete outpaced her. He took the steps two at a time. Soon he stood on the landing with his hands on his hips, wondering which of the closed rooms was the one he sought.

Cilla, her breathing heavy – I supposed she hadn’t done any cardio since high school – turned right and walked the short corridor to a glossy white door. We followed.

‘It’s a generous room,’ Cilla began, swinging the door open. ‘South-facing windows, new pure wool carpets…’

Then it was as though we had crossed from one reality into another. Cilla’s description was accurate, and there were white walls and heavy silver curtains to go with the plush, grey-beige carpet. The bed was huge, king-sized, dressed in what looked to be fresh white linen.

But in it, obviously naked, were a man and a woman. The man sat up. He was hairy, I remember that – I remember how thoroughly his body was furred, and that the hair on his head had volume as well as length. His glasses, his jewellery – rings, a chain – were on the bedside table beside him. The woman did her best to vanish under the covers but I could see her body beneath them, moving, could hear her limbs swishing against the sheets.

Perhaps some people would have screamed, or tried to explain. Weirdly, their first reaction was silence – the man just put out his hands, patting the air around him downwards, as though to calm us. I took in their belongings: not the shabby rucksacks or plastic bags that would indicate vagrants, but two large roller cases, with matching smaller overnight bags. I saw a handbag that would have been expensive. Overcoats. A laptop. Smartphones charging at the wall sockets.