‘Use this money wisely. I need you, Raymond. There are other worlds inside this hotel. I feel I must balance them. In spite of tonight . . . you are one of the good souls. The world needs good souls, so let us stand beside one another. So –’ and here Maynard Charles paused, doubt creeping into his voice for the first time – ‘make Artie listen, Raymond. Make Artie see sense. But if he were ever to set foot in this hotel again . . .’

‘You’d do that for a petty thief, Maynard?’ asked Raymond, with a twinkle in his eye.

Maynard Charles nodded. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time. I’ll write it off as an unaccounted loss – replacement of a guest theft, perhaps. Well, you don’t think you’re the first to come here and try and rob my hotel, do you?’

*

Nancy Nettleton was composing a letter to Frank when there came a knocking at her bedroom door. Proudly – because she had not yet let Rosa and Ruth or any of the others see her cry and she didn’t mean to tonight – she stood and opened it.

And there stood Raymond de Guise, dishevelled in clothes that could hardly have been his own, while over his shoulder – in the kitchenette where she had gone to make a soothing cup of tea after she had woken in the night – Rosa stood gawping.

‘Rosa!’ Nancy gasped. Now was not the time. Now was not the moment to tell them everything. ‘Rosa, please, I’ll explain . . .’

‘Nancy,’ Raymond breathed.

‘What’s he doing here, Nance? Nancy Nettleton, of all the things I’ve seen in this hotel!’ She was crowing with laughter now, the strangest mix of bewilderment and hysterics that Nancy had ever heard. ‘You – you little country mouse!’ she said with glee. ‘You’re the scandal! Ha! Here, Ruth! Agatha!’ Rosa spun around to call along the hallway to the other girls’ rooms. ‘Get out here! You won’t believe who’s turned up at Nancy’s door . . .’

I’ll get fired, Nancy thought. She was sure she could already hear the girls stirring behind their doors, roused from sleep by the promise of some scandal. Raymond, you bloody fool.

Nancy reached out, took him by the arm, and hauled him within. As she slammed the door, she caught Rosa’s eye – and braved the slightest smile. ‘Please, I’ll explain . . .’

Inside the room, Raymond towered over her. She stepped forward, shaking, drew back her arm and slapped him once across the cheek hard. Raymond winced.

‘I deserved that,’ he said. ‘Nancy, I behaved badly towards you and—’

‘You deserve more.’

For a moment, there was silence.

‘You can’t just walk in here! The girls saw you. What if Mrs Moffatt . . .’

I can hear them outside the door already . . .