‘And you?’ I have already planned my response if he asks me to do dreamwork on him – because it would be an obvious way to draw me in if he is somehow behind all this. I’ve already decided to say that I can’t handle it and I’m taking a break.

‘I used meds to sleep last night,’ he says. ‘My dreams, they were very strange, I am getting chased by the police, of course, and there’s one dream where animals are biting my hands. But I don’t . . . you know, I don’t think there’s anything to it. I’m just . . . processing.’

‘Have the police asked you more questions?’ My voice goes up in a very unnatural way and I feel like the world’s worst actor. He glances at me sharply.

‘No. Have they questioned you again?’

‘Well, not exactly . . .’ Why am I so bad at this? He could be a killer, he could be the one who tried to make me stab myself, and I’m just standing here with my teeth chattering, talking to him like everything is normal.

‘Listen, Charlie. I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I have to tell someone. Please, I can trust you, right? We’ve been through so much together.’

I give a frozen nod. What’s he going to confess? Oh god, those dark eyes, look at his skin, I can see the pulse in his throat, I can smell that lovely scent he has around his neck, must be pheromones or vaporised testosterone or something.

‘I paid for the suite Mel was staying in that last night. I let her think it was the person who usually pays—’

‘The Russian patron?’

‘Yeah, usually. But this time it was me. I had broken down the door, so we couldn’t stay in the first room. I didn’t want to cause her embarrassment, I wanted her to feel better, to feel safe, and the only available suite was one of the most expensive in the hotel. If she had been on a lower floor it would not have been so easy for her to get on the roof, we could have stopped her—’

I grab his hand to stop him blaming himself.

‘Where would you get that kind of money?’

‘It was my savings. I was foolish. I used all the money I had. My sisters are paying for my flight home. I am broke. I am just a yoga instructor. She was a goddess. I wish—’

He breaks off, shaking his head. Tears stream openly down his face.

‘I know. I wish, too.’

‘Charlie, there is more.’

‘OK,’ I say, but I feel a yawn coming on.

‘I am leaving on a false passport. The police have me on a no-fly list.’

‘Oh, fucking hell.’