‘I’m happy to wait too,’ Faith says with a smile. ‘This jerk clearly thinks he’s more important than us mere mortals.’ Her words are sharp, loud enough for Dane Winslow to hear. He simply scoffs.

‘Alice? Mitch?’ Christine’s eyes dart from one to the other. ‘Do you mind?’

Mitch grunts, and Alice shakes her head, drops down onto the sofa. Christine scampers away towards the kitchen, like a frightened rabbit, her flat shoes slapping the floor tiles. Within seconds, Lori heads up the stairs to collect her inhaler, and Dane disappears into the shadows.

‘I’m going to get some more cigs from our room,’ Mitch says, turning and making his way up the stairs after Lori.

‘Are you OK?’ Faith says, joining Alice on the sofa, her voice soft and comforting. She puts her arm around Alice’s shoulders, and pulls her close. ‘I hope this isn’t all too much for you.’

‘Don’t be kind, Faith. Please.’ Alice smiles. ‘You’ll have me blubbing.’

‘Is it the portrait?’

Alice nods. ‘Yes … well, this place.’ She looks about her. ‘It’s making me feel—’

A door slams behind them, and Christine appears once more, dashing across reception with a tray loaded with canapés, and a bottle of champagne. ‘I’m so sorry about this, ladies,’ she says. ‘I won’t be long.’

As Christine takes the stairs, Alice rests her head on her friend’s shoulder.

‘You were going to say how it’s making you feel,’ Faith says. ‘This place.’

‘It’s just the dark atmosphere, I guess.’

‘The whole Gothic thing?’

‘It’s a bit unnerving, that’s all.’

After a few minutes, Lori hurries down the stairs towards them, followed by Christine.

‘I better see where Mitch has got to,’ Faith says, getting to her feet, and leaping up the stairs two at a time.

Alice rises too. ‘They’re quite something, aren’t they?’ she says to Christine. ‘The Winslows.’

Christine nods. ‘I realise they are Mr Patterson’s guests, but I’ve no idea why he would want them here. They’re critics, apparently.’

‘Mmm, I’ve seen their awful YouTube channel,’ Alice says. ‘They can be very cruel.’

‘I’ve heard of them,’ Lori says. ‘Nasty couple.’

The trio fall quiet for some time. Waiting. Alice is close to backing out of the tour altogether, making her apologies – missing the security of Faith or Leon by her side – when she hears footsteps at the top of the stairs.

‘We’re ready,’ Faith calls from the landing. She stands with Mitch, her arm looped through his elbow.

‘Great. Shall we begin by heading upstairs?’ Christine says, and she and Lori move across reception. The stairs creak as the two of them head for the first floor, but Alice doesn’t move, frozen for a moment, staring once more at the solitary child in the sea of pictures of Felix Flynn.

‘Alice,’ Faith calls. ‘Are you coming?’