He has stopped playing the guitar. Sandy is looking at him, most of the men are. He tries to carry on and keep his balance. As the last song nears an end, he makes his way off stage again. He snakes around the edge of the dancers to the nearby staff toilet. He looks back, squinting, and sees it is Catriona sitting at the back of the hall. He has not noticed her dancing all night. He pushes himself into the stinking cubicle and hurls up vomit. He takes a mouthful of water from the grubby sink and spits, then wipes his face with his sleeve. He pushes his way out again, taking one last look around the main hall. The final chord has just rung out and the dancers are breathless. He makes for the back door and sharp air. The stars are clean, hard chunks of light and he starts to feel better. A heavy hand smacks his shoulder. Malcolm.

‘You all right there, our man of the hour?’

‘Aye, I’m fine.’

‘Fantastic music this evening. Angela and I had a whale of a time, really fantastic.’

Niall nods. ‘Glad to hear it!’

‘Did Lauren let you know? She’s over at ours. Best place for her, really.’

‘Oh, right, no. She didn’t tell me.’ His mouth is tight. His head has cleared. It’s the last time he’s asking Ann-Marie to babysit. He takes out his phone for the first time that evening and tries to hide his embarrassment with a laugh. ‘I tell a lie. She’s just starting to use this mobile I gave her.’ Malcolm is not getting the better of him.

‘Well, makes sense for us to get you home then. We can pick up your car in the morning.’ They walk back into the hall.

‘No, I’m fine actually.’

‘We’d really rather …’

‘I’m all right.’

Malcolm moves his hand back from Niall’s shoulder as if he has touched a stove. The guests are dispersing and the castle staff are clearing glasses and stacking the velvet-backed chairs around them. Aileen snuffs out the white candles in the alcoves.

‘Well. Niall. It’s nearly two o’clock; I have to insist. Angela’s taking one for the team, as they say, staying away from the strong stuff, being the chauffeur tonight. Now, there’s a man who looks like he owes you something.’

Sandy is gesturing to him by the stage and Niall goes over. He has almost forgotten he needs to be paid. It comes in a white envelope, a tiny £60 scribbled in the corner.

‘Now,’ says Sandy, ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

‘Cheers,’ says Niall, ‘appreciate it.’ It is less than he was expecting.

‘You all right there?’ asks Sandy.

‘Aye.’

‘You had to make a quick exit?’

‘Yeah, I dunno, I wasn’t feeling too great.’

‘No bother. Make sure you do something nice with Lauren, eh?’