Clover sensed a tranquillity settle over the room as they stopped clock-watching, at least for a bit. The fire crackled lazily, champagne fizzing in their glasses, the quiet knock of the chunky chess pieces as they were moved around the board in a slow gliding dance.

‘How the other half live, eh?’ Matty murmured, moving her knight and taking another sip of champagne. She looked around the room again as if she could hardly believe it – living the good life in a millionaire’s ski chalet. ‘If only they didn’t have to come back; then it really would be perfect.’

‘Slight issue of paying the rent, though,’ Clover murmured back, her hand hovering over her king.

‘What are you talking about? Your flat’s worth a fortune! You could sell that and easily buy half of this.’

‘Half. That’s helpful.’

Carlotta came through to refresh their glasses. ‘Is everything . . . okay for you?’ She seemed to freeze momentarily as she took in the sight of them all – Johnny cross-legged and playing vinyls, Clover and Matty playing chess.

‘Great, thanks,’ Clover smiled.

‘Chef has said dinner will be in fifteen minutes.’

‘Wonderful.’

Carlotta hesitated, then nodded. She refilled their drinks, poked the fire and threw on another log. She hesitated as she turned to leave again and Clover saw her survey the tranquil scene, as if confused.

‘Is everything all right?’ Clover asked.

‘Yes. Yes.’ Carlotta straightened primly. ‘It is just you are not . . . what we expected.’

‘Oh?’

But Carlotta didn’t reply as she walked back towards the kitchen, leaving them all to wonder what exactly Kit, Ari and Beau had been saying about them. And what exactly were they expecting?

She stirred and turned over, her body falling back into dead weight, happy oblivion . . .

The sound came again, startling her, making her limbs twitch and her brain begin to spark, but not enough to push off the blanket of sleep. Her breathing was deep and slow, already lulling her back from this reluctant half-waking as she opened one eye and stared blankly into the blackness. But the sliver of light coming under the door in the opposite corner wasn’t where she expected it to be. The confusion roused her further. What . . .? Where . . .? Everything felt unfamiliar. She was disorientated.

Then she remembered.

She felt her muscles set with tension, her heart begin to quicken as she realized what she was hearing.

What time was it?

Her hand flailed for the phone. Three thirty-eight glowed in neon green light, creating a spectral radiance in the room. ‘Mats!’ she whispered.