‘Gracie Porter.’ He isn’t as friendly as last time. But I’m not sure whether it’s Duncan or not? I try to make eye contact. The Duncan-looking bouncer isn’t looking up from his list. ‘It might be under Eat Me,’ I say, ‘the television show. My friends – and colleagues – and I were VIP guests at your opening last month.’ I don’t mention I was the person who fainted inside the club at such opening. Poppy said it was attributed to the heat at the time. It doesn’t warrant a mention now.

Checking his list, the bouncer replies, ‘You’re not on the list tonight. General entry is back there.’ He jabs a thick finger at the back of the long line.

‘Oh. Um, how long?’

He shrugs. ‘An hour. No guarantee you’ll get in. Packed house tonight.’

‘Really? That long, Duncan?’ I venture.

‘Duncan’s not working tonight.’

‘Of course, what I meant – sorry, what’s your name?’

‘My name’s Gordon.’

‘Right, Gordon. What I meant is, Duncan would certainly remember me. We had quite a chat, Duncan and I, on the night of the opening of this bar.’

‘Lady, I’ve got to keep this line moving.’

‘Of course, I’m so sorry to hold you up, Gordon. It’s just that I was most definitely invited here this evening. I’m almost certain that my friends Faith and Poppy are downstairs right now. Perhaps you could check your list to see if they’re checked in? And then, if you allow me to get to them, they can help to sort—’

‘Lady, you’re not on the list. You need to move to the back of the queue.’

‘Gordon—’

‘Line up.’

‘But—’

‘BACK OF THE QUEUE.’

I slink to the back, every face I pass smugly satisfied I’ve failed to push my way in at the front.

I walk a little way down Wardour Street and try again, now desperately, to get through to Faith. Again, her mobile rings out. Unbelievably, I don’t have Poppy’s number in my phone – I’ve never needed to call her. Poppy’s always just been there for me.

Of course, it begins to rain.

I don’t have an umbrella on me.

I check my app and there are no Ubers available.

I’m scouting the street for a black cab to take me home when a snivelling voice behind me says, ‘Raining again, and here we are. Such serendipity.’

I turn and am shocked to see Alex Sutcliffe standing beside me.

‘Leaving so soon?’ he sneers.

‘As it happens, yes.’ Has he been watching me all this time?

‘And how was it inside?’

‘Alex, have you been spying on me?’

His lips curl in a malevolent grin.