It took a couple of courses to get them into the swing of things. They each took the seat they’d occupied during the course, then Caro reminded them who had been sitting either side of them, then tried to remember who said what, in case there were any clues in it. At the same time, they checked the notes from the script and the descriptions on the page, with Posy jotting down any differences between them.

Unfortunately, most of the conversations they recalled seemed as boring and banal as all the dinner parties Caro had endured during her first marriage, and the changes and differences were minimal and insignificant. All they’d established was that, since they had been served eleven courses rather than the twelve in the book, Marcus had been recreating the film version of the dinner.

By the time they’d reached the eighth course, Caro was starting to doubt the genius of her idea. And so were the others, from their bored expressions and half-hearted answers.

‘Ninth course!’ Caro pointed to the relevant seats, and everyone moved around again, with sighs. ‘Rosalind, you had Juliette and Marcus.’

Rosalind frowned. ‘No I didn’t.’

Caro checked the seating plan again. ‘This says you did.’

‘I didn’t sit next to Juliette all night.’

‘Because she left!’ Posy chirped. ‘She went to call her boyfriend, remember? She wasn’t there for the next couple of courses.’

‘That’s right,’ Caro said, slowly. ‘She was the only person who left the table but didn’t come back.’ They’d tried to keep track of who had left the room and when, Posy scribbling notes on the seating plans to remind them later, for all the good it would do. With eleven courses and matching wine pairings, everyone had needed a bathroom break at some point or another.

‘Maybe Juliette saw something when she left,’ Posy said. ‘We should talk to her.’

‘If we’re serious about doing this, we’re going to need to talk to everybody, sooner or later,’ Rosalind pointed out. ‘The question is how to do that without raising any suspicions that we know more than we should.’

‘A dilemma worthy of Dahlia,’ Caro said. ‘And one we’ll solve after we’ve finished our recreation. So. Ninth course.’

Once again, there were no particularly enlightening conversations. Caro wasn’t sure what she’d been hoping for. This sort of re-enactment always seemed to work better when Dahlia did it.

‘Two more to go,’ she said, her enthusiasm fading as she checked the seating plans again. Then she frowned. ‘Posy, you were next to me – but you didn’t show up until after the sorbet had been served. And when you did, you told me you were sure that Marcus was behind everything. Where were you?’

‘I needed to talk to Anton.’ Posy’s reply was short and sharp, and she glanced away towards the door as she said it.