I gushed breathlessly, barely allowing Mr Byrne to cut in as I explained that our stay back in 2013 had been spoiled by an assault on the woman in the room next door. I wove in every detail that wasn’t in the public domain. Zac and Jane’s names, the date of the incident on 5 April, the fact that my husband and I had alerted the police ourselves and gone to Mrs Hunter’s aid. I told him that Mr Murphy had promised us two free nights at the hotel to compensate for the upset and inconvenience, but that the written confirmation of this had never arrived. Finally, I said I’d had a life-threatening disease the last few years, which was why we hadn’t followed it up, but we wanted to plan a new trip to Ireland to celebrate my recovery.

‘I’m very sorry about our error, Mrs Hopwell,’ Mr Byrne said, ‘and especially sorry to hear about your trials, but I’m glad to know you are looking forward to better times.’

Hopwell. I scribbled the name.

He continued. ‘I have our incident log open for the fifth and sixth of April 2013, and I can see Mr Murphy’s detailed notes of what occurred. You will remember, I’m sure, that you weren’t charged for your stay, because the sad incident spanned both nights of your booking. Mr Murphy made no remark in the log regarding two additional free nights, but we are happy to honour that. We pride ourselves on our customer care, and we want to ensure you have a stay with us you can enjoy. You were clearly deprived of that the last time by circumstances beyond our control.’

‘I appreciate that, Mr Byrne. I wonder – Maybe you don’t have our correct address and that’s why Mr Murphy’s written confirmation never arrived. Can you read back what you have on file, so I can check? We don’t want the letter to get lost again.’

‘Of course.’ He recited an address in Austin, Texas, and I jotted it down nearly as fast as he spoke, hoping that my English accent hadn’t set off any alarm bells. But I reassured myself that it wasn’t unheard of for people to move countries.

‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘Can you also confirm that you’ve got the right spelling of Hopwell, and our full names?’

‘Norman and Belinda Hopwell. H-O-P-W-E-L-L.’

‘Perfect.’ I felt like the Wolf tricking Little Red Riding Hood – the version where she fell into every trap he laid and didn’t get rescued. ‘Can you read back our phone number too, just to be extra-safe that you have everything exactly right?’

‘Good idea.’ I scribbled that down as well. He apologised once more for what happened, and I promised to keep his letter in a safe place once it arrived, and make our reservation early next year.