So she was in Uncle Yifu’s room. What had happened last night? She remembered being at the Xanadu. Champagne and laughter. But not much else. Oh God, she thought. It was like being a student again. Only she was ten years older, and ten years less able to handle it. She saw her clothes neatly folded on a chair and got unsteadily to her feet to cross the room and ease herself slowly back into them. From somewhere in the apartment, she heard the sounds of someone moving around. The clatter of a kettle on a stove, the rattle of crockery. She moved out into the hall and saw an open door to a small bathroom. She went in and saw herself in the mirror and wished she hadn’t. She had a complexion like putty. Lukewarm water chugged and spluttered from the cold tap as she splashed it on her face to try to bring the blood to the surface and some colour to her cheeks. She swilled some around her mouth to take away the bad taste and stop her tongue sticking to the roof of it.

She wandered blearily into the kitchen and found Li making tea. She was shocked by his appearance. If anything, he looked worse than she did. Dry blood scabbed the splits on his lip and cheek and brow. The witch-hazel had brought the swelling down, and the bruising was turning yellow already. It would be gone in a day or two, but right now it was the wrong shade for a face with all other colour washed out of it. He looked at her sheepishly. “Tea?”

She nodded, and wished she hadn’t as the pain pounded her temples. “What . . .” She hesitated, almost afraid to ask. “What happened last night?”

“We all had too much to drink.”

“I think I’ve figured that one out already. What else?”

He shrugged. “You thought it would be a good idea to sing some karaoke.”

She was horrified. “You’re kidding me! I didn’t . . . I mean, I didn’t actually get up and sing?”

“No. Lotus sang and you got a bit emotional.” She closed her eyes in shame and disbelief. He said, “So we came back here.”

“We? Who’s we?”

“The four of us. Ma Yongli thought some black coffee might make you feel better. Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect.”

“Oh my God. I wasn’t sick?” He nodded, and she wanted to curl up and die of embarrassment. “I am so sorry.”

He smiled. “It’s all right. Lotus looked after you.”

“Is she still here?”

“No. They left after about an hour.” He handed her a cup of green tea. She sipped the hot, aromatic brew and felt a little better.

She was frightened to meet his eye as she asked, “Did we . . . ? Did I . . . ?” And she gave up trying to be delicate. “Who undressed me?”

“Lotus put you to bed before she left.”