When she woke the next morning she was alone in the bed. She checked her phone. Ten thirty. She opened the curtains and looked out on the day. Sun gleamed on the leaves and grass, on the walls and window glass. Everything that had seemed oppressive now felt guileless; even the big hotel, with only the three of them inside. She got dressed and went down, smelling something singed and sugary. Alex leaned into the hall from the kitchen.

‘Want a croissant? I’m toasting them, they’re amazing.’

‘Morning. Yes, please. Where’s Dan?’

‘He was here a minute ago.’

He ducked back into the kitchen and the fire door swung shut. From the stairs she could see the visitors’ book below her, lying open, next to the computer. The pages were filled with entries. She reached the hall and went behind the desk, reading the names and countries. The UK, the States, Australia. ‘Great stay! Thanks!’ ‘Beautiful country and great wines!’

At the end of January the entries stopped. Dust lay over the desk, and the stacks of files on the small bookshelf looked untouched. She could smell coffee and hear Alex banging around on the other side of the fire door. Propped up on a table behind her was the board for the keys. They hung on hooks below gold-stencilled numbers, and had big wooden tags. Room 1 was missing, it was on her bedside table. A word was written in the gap, in capitals, with a Sharpie. HUBRIS. Behind Room 2 was the word GREED. She pushed aside the others. LUST, ENVY, GLUTTONY, WRATH and SLOTH. Only those seven keys were on the board, the rest of the hooks were empty. Alex opened the kitchen door.

‘Breakfast, you lazy cow,’ he said.

‘What’s with the seven deadly sins?’

He smiled. ‘I was bored. It was funny at the time. Instead of grape varieties, or Molière, or whatever.’

‘You put us in Hubris.’

‘It’s not personal. D’you want some coffee?’

‘Yes, please. Alex?’

‘Yup.’

She felt awkward. ‘Why did you make up the guests?’

He narrowed his eyes.

‘In the book. All the names. Why did you make them up?’

‘I didn’t.’

He was so brazen she doubted herself. ‘Yes, you did.’

‘FUCKING HELL!’ He kicked the door. It was a petulant kick, like a rock musician, leg flying sideways and the door banged, booming against the wall.

They heard running. Dan came in from the sitting room.

‘What the fuck?’ he said. ‘What’s going on? Why are you shouting at Bea?’

‘I wasn’t,’ said Alex. His rage, like a blown light bulb, had gone.

‘You were!’ Dan came towards him.

‘Why would anyone shout at Bea?’ said Alex sadly.

Dan looked from one to the other.

‘It’s fine, Dan,’ she said. ‘There are fake names in the guestbook. I was just asking about them.’

‘What?’ said Dan.

‘They aren’t all fake,’ said Alex.

‘There aren’t even that many,’ she said.

She thought of him getting bored with his game and giving up, and she couldn’t help laughing. Alex laughed too, but Dan couldn’t see anything funny.