The lounge was crowded but Imelda managed to find a free stool and as she squeezed in next to her new colleague, she recognised her as the extraordinary contortionist, Sara-Jade Virtue.

‘Cheers!’ Sara-Jade clinked glasses with her and swigged her gin. ‘I know you from the posters. You’re Madame Something-or-another – the fortune teller.’

The reception hall at Larkins was bedecked with brightly coloured posters advertising all the activities and acts that the guests could enjoy. Marty had insisted that the entertainment staff have their pictures taken for use in Larkins’ publicity material. Cillian had been photographed astride his motorbike wearing a black leather jacket and a sultry scowl. Someone had already christened it with a lipstick kiss. Imelda had posed inside her booth, hands hovering over a crystal ball with Grisha beside her.

‘Call me Imelda. And yes, I’m a palmist and clairvoyant, and I read tarot cards.’

‘Do you do curses as well? There’s a few people I’d pay good money to have cursed.’

‘Anyone I know?’ Imelda joked.

‘Well, that Marty Mount for starters. He needs to learn to keep his hands to himself. And the bloke in my corner shop who smells of kippers. He’s always scratching. I can’t stand a man who’s always scratching. I reckon he’s got fleas.’

‘When are you on this evening?’ Imelda asked, wondering if the effects of the gin would have worn off by the time Sara-Jade shimmied out on stage.

‘In about an hour. Should have time for a couple more of these before I have to go and get changed and warm up.’

Her answer caught Imelda off guard, and her consternation was momentarily evident before she managed to regain a more neutral expression. Sara-Jade laughed out loud.

‘Don’t worry, love, it lubricates my joints. I always have a few drinks before I do my act. I’m never that bendy when I’m stone cold sober.’

Imelda had been surprised when Ruby told the entertainment staff that they would be permitted to drink in the entertainment lounge along with the guests. It was, apparently, Marty’s idea. He thought that the paying guests might welcome the opportunity to ‘rub shoulders with a little bit of stardust’. Imelda finished her drink and wished Sara-Jade ‘good luck’ for tonight’s performance.

‘At least you didn’t tell me to “break a leg”. Most people think it’s hilarious to say that to a contortionist. As if I haven’t heard it a million times before. It makes me want to break their silly necks!’ She winked at Imelda, who was pretty sure she was joking . . .