He loved that about me: it sounded like something you’d whisper after five years of dating. But that was the funny thing about this whole situation – time had started to warp and melt, dangerously fluid. By now it was almost impossible to believe that I’d only known my fellow warriors for a few short hours.

I leaned into Arthur, allowing his arms to snake their way around my waist, letting the bass line seep through our melded bodies. Then I saw how Marco’s elfin face was scrunched up in cheeky amusement, and immediately I came crashing down to earth. I’d be a fool to trust myself: when had this kind of situation not ended in disaster? I was a disgusting mess who just happened to be sober.

I stiffened, slipping out of the circle Arthur had woven around me before the next song could draw us back together.

‘I should go to bed,’ I said. ‘No one wants panda eyes for Christmas.’

Arthur considered me, his handsome, grizzled face suddenly hard to read.

‘Get some beauty sleep,’ he said, almost as if it was a command. ‘Not that you need it. Tomorrow will be quite a trip.’

When I got back to my room I sank onto my thin mattress, trying and failing to make sense of the past few hours. All that fizzing energy had drained from me now, my body limp and useless. I eyed the solid black oblong of my suitcase, torn.

After a few minutes I crossed to it and yanked the zip, rootling through the layers of jeans and jumpers until I felt the silky sheen of the ribbons that encircled Sophie’s present. I sat cross-legged on the hard floor, gently teasing out the knots. I pulled back the paper with reverential care, as if Sophie would be able to feel the soft murmur of my attention through the ether.

A long scarf unfurled itself in my hands, soft and yielding. It was far more stylish than the ones we’d looked at for Mum in the shop in Marylebone, chunky and thick, a vivid emerald green that she knew I’d love. A card fell out, a line drawing of a mouse in a Father Christmas hat.

I don’t know exactly where she’s taken you, but I’d hate it if you were cold. Love you always, your sister Sophie xx

I buried my face deep in the wool, inhaling the faint trace of Sophie’s perfume. My tears left it sodden. ‘Happy Christmas,’ I whispered under my breath, almost convincing myself I heard her repeat the words back to me, a sisterly incantation, unbound by time or space.

LILY