‘Your lot keeps us going since the tourists stopped.’ He sniffed and turned to consider the three large brass keys hanging behind him. When he moved one, it left a brighter key-shaped spot on the wall. ‘When the monastery closed down over on the island in the Eighties, there was still the lighthouse for people to go and see. But that dried up too, eventually, taking the village ’ere on the mainland with it. No one needed the boat trip over, see? That’s how it goes.’ His bushy brows drew together for a moment. ‘But then you lot came and bought the whole place. Like I said, you’re the last of ’em. They’s been arriving all week cos I’ve only got a few rooms, see? Some of you what comes late in the day, you can’t go out in the boat at night and ’ave to stay over.’

The sleep trial itself was to take place on a small island in a purpose-built Sleep Centre, just a fifteen-minute boat ride away. Privacy was vital, she had been told.

‘Don’t look like that!’ Harriet had remonstrated via Skype. ‘There is a regular boat service, specially constructed, state-of-the-art buildings, living quarters and all the facilities you could want. Think of it as a luxury hotel stay. It’s certainly not Alcatraz!’

Harriet hadn’t mentioned that she’d have to stay in the pub at the end of the world the night before, however. Not quite as hi-tech. The man put the heavy room key, rough with rust, into her hand.

‘Kitchen’s closed because it’s late,’ he continued.

It was 5 p.m.

‘But I could make you a sandwich.’ He shuffled off through another tattered curtain behind him. Thea heard some clunking noises and he emerged with a can.

‘Tuna,’ he said, reading from the label. ‘I can make you a tuna sandwich.’

Thea wasn’t quite so keen on the idea of a tuna and dandruff sandwich.

‘That’s kind but I’m not hungry, thank you,’ she said hastily. ‘Probably have an early night.’

‘Suit yourself. No loud music, no animals, no extra guests permitted in your room. There’s a TV but we don’t get much of a reception up here. Breakfast is paid for so I have to serve it. At eight o’clock, it’ll be. They order it in – fancy stuff, half of it looks like kitty litter.’

He thumped a card down onto the desk in front of her, wrinkling his nose at it as if it smelled.