Nick’s anger was growing. ‘You’re telling me this was just coincidence? You had your hair cut and dyed just like my former wife’s purely by chance.’ He seized me by the arm, led me to one side and shoved open a door to what must have been a fire exit. We were in a freezing, uncarpeted stairwell. ‘What’s this about?’ he demanded. ‘What on earth are you trying to do?’

I too felt a wave of anger, at the way he was treating me. Until then I had managed to suppress my frustration that he was hiding from me what had secretly been between him and Lorelei; but with his apparent accusation it all started to come out. ‘Are you saying I can’t even cut my hair how I want without your permission?’ I replied.

‘You’re just like her.’ He was speaking to himself, not me.

‘No.’

‘Yes, you are.’

I thought back to the party. How she had looked, how she had stood and moved. And just now, when he saw me, Nick had dropped the tickets out of shock. A thought crept into my mind: what if it wasn’t shock or anger? What if, just for a moment, it had been hope?

‘Nick? Did you –’

Behind him, the door opened. A short man with side-whiskers appeared wearing an evening suit. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said. ‘This area is for staff only.’

‘What of it?’ replied Nick.

‘May I be of assistance?’

‘You can leave us alone.’ His tone was unmistakable. There was to be no more talk.

The man silently withdrew. Nick just glared at me and shook his head before walking away, back into the lobby. I stood, feeling the cool air flowing in from the door at the end that led to the outside world. I knew I could leave through that door, and I probably would have done, once, nursing my wounds, but something kept me there. Sticks and stones, I thought to myself. And I thought again of that day when I had found her. Of the memories hidden from me.

I followed Nick out. He was talking quietly to Charles, who watched my return through the corner of his eye. Nick caught sight of me too and seemed to relent somewhat. ‘Listen,’ he began to say to me. But he was interrupted by the bell ringing to tell us to take our seats, and we reached a joint unspoken conclusion that the best thing would be to leave things to settle, so we traipsed in without another word. For the next hour we sat watching a frothy farce about a farm girl playing a buffoonish English aristocrat and an equally dim-witted and arrogant American banker off against each other.