Duke leans over and blows it out, standing up and saying, ‘Sorry about that. I didn’t think. Quite right.’

Their moment is lost.

When the lights go back on, they’re dozing next to one another on the floor, back in the main lobby area with everyone else.

‘Morning,’ Duke says to her, awkwardly.

‘Morning,’ Evie says back, just as awkward. Last night comes crashing back to her. Had she really thought she wanted to kiss him? She shudders at the memory. What an inexplicable moment of madness. She resolves to act extra normal with him, lest he get the wrong idea. Thank goodness the security guard interrupted when he did.

They pass Markus as they try to seek out their driver, who looks between them and nods, his lips set in a firm, unemotional line.

‘Good morning, Mr Carlisle, Ms Bird,’ their driver says when they approach him. ‘As you can see, we are free to go. The snow has stopped, the roads have been cleared, and we should arrive within the hour.’

‘Great. Thanks so much,’ Duke tells him. ‘Coffee for the road?’ he asks. Evie wonders if he is being ‘extra normal’ to compensate for her stupidity last night too. Had he clocked what she had been about to do? ‘Three lattes?’

‘Please,’ she says, with a big smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

They buy pastries and water, too, and chewable toothbrushes. Who knew such a thing existed?

Evie climbs into the people carrier and sits at the far window, like she did yesterday. Duke gets in behind her. They head off the autostrada and into Augsburg. (‘Founded by the Romans’ their driver tells them. ‘In 15 BC. This is the oldest city in Bavaria and the second oldest in Germany.’)

Augsburg has buildings much like they’ve seen so far on the Romantic Road – all different colours, two or three storeys high with pointed, angular roofs. They pass two big white churches with red roofs and turrets, and pull into a huge cobbled square to a long grey building with attic windows and flags outside.

‘The hotel,’ the driver announces. ‘Ms Bird, I’ll follow with your things.’

It’s brighter than their last hotel, which had a lot of dark wood. The Maximilian is all polished marble floors and pillars, very luxurious, and the sitting room-cum-bar area is laden with deep sofas and plush velvet chairs. They check in, and the concierge tells them they’ll let the producer know they’ve arrived safely.

‘This is for you,’ the concierge says, slipping Duke a piece of folded paper. Inside, it says there’s a cast and crew meeting in the restaurant at 6 p.m., attendance mandatory.

‘I’ll just go and get that book for you?’ Duke asks.

‘Sure,’ Evie says. ‘I’ll come with you, if that’s all right?’

See. Normal. Normal, normal, normal.

‘Fine,’ he replies.