I don’t know how reps like Matt do it – looking so bright and cheerful when I know he was up drinking with us until around 2 a.m. The bags under my eyes are more like suitcases and yet this guy looks like he might have got up at the crack of dawn and already done a full workout at the gym. He’s sitting at the breakfast table drinking a coffee when I come down, along with a woman who I haven’t yet met.

Matt stands up when he sees me. ‘Adam! There you are. I hope you slept well?’ He gestures at the table. ‘Please, sit down and have some breakfast before we go, there’s no rush. Oh, and you haven’t met Ria yet, have you? Ria, Adam, Adam, Ria.’

Hugo’s wife, must be. Attractive, but older than I’d expected. Probably only a few years younger than Hugo, with a good decade and a half or more on Cass. She looks up and nods at me, before pushing back her chair and dabbing her mouth with a white napkin.

‘I hope you’re feeling better?’ I say.

She smiles briefly. ‘I am, thank you. But I hope you’ll excuse me, I have a phone call to make.’

I sit down at the table and Millie places a pot of coffee and a small jug of what looks like freshly squeezed orange juice in front of me.

‘Good morning, Adam,’ she says. Like Matt, she looks immaculate and well-rested, though she can’t possibly have got more than a few hours’ sleep. ‘What can I get you for breakfast?’

‘Um … I’m not sure, uh …’

‘I’d like to apologize again for what happened at dinner – I’m so very sorry and hope none of your clothes were stained?’

‘No need to apologize, look at me! All my clothes are from market stalls these days. A bit of wine doesn’t matter.’

She nods. ‘That’s very generous of you. I understand you’ve been travelling for some time so … how about a traditional full English? I expect you won’t have had one of those for a while?’ She puts her head to one side and looks at me expectantly. She really is extraordinarily pretty.

‘That sounds lovely, thank you,’ I reply, trying to push my lecherous feelings away. I doubt hitting on the chalet girl would go down well in a place like this.

Matt takes a slug of coffee. ‘How are you feeling about today?’ he asks. ‘If it’s not a stupid question?’

I sigh, longer and more loudly than I was intending to. ‘In all honesty, I’m dreading it.’ Is that the right thing to say? I’m not sure. Matt takes another mouthful of coffee and nods sympathetically.

‘Must be a hard thing to do after all these years,’ he says. ‘But good to get some closure too, no?’