I glance around the room, checking for – I don’t know what. It somehow feels like the story Toby told me happened just now, not a decade ago. I’m almost expecting to see smashed glass on the floor, or blood, or Dina’s crumpled body. I shudder and shake away the gruesome image in my head.

‘Zoe? You in there?’

‘Coming!’ I call, my voice steadier than it has any right to be.

I walk quickly across the room and fiddle with the door catch, finally turning it and pulling open the door. Dad stands there, a little way down the corridor, gazing at a piece of modern art on the wall. ‘What’s this supposed to be?’ he asks. ‘Looks like a big squiggle. It’s got a price. They want four hundred quid for it!’

‘Hi, Dad.’

‘Didn’t see you at breakfast.’ He finally glances up in my direction and follows me into my room.

‘No, sorry, I had a bit of a lie-in. Didn’t Toby tell you?’

‘I didn’t see him down there. Must have missed him. A lie-in, eh? Too much partying?’

‘Something like that.’

My dad looks around the room. ‘This is nice. Good view out the front.’ He walks over to the window and stands there with his hands tucked behind his back. ‘Haven’t been to this place since your wedding.’

‘I know. Seems like so long ago.’

‘Not that long. Ten years has gone by in the blink of an eye. You all right, love?’ He squints over at me. ‘Looking a tad peaky if you don’t mind me saying. You been crying?’

For a moment I debate whether to go against Toby’s wishes and tell Dad what I found out last night. The urge to break down and confess is so strong that I almost ache with it. But I can’t do or say anything rash. I need to think this through. Once I say something, I can’t unsay it. And this is about my sister, his daughter. It’s not something I can just blurt out, is it?

‘I’m just feeling a bit rough. I think I overdid things yesterday.’ It’s the truth, so why does it feel like a lie? Maybe because it’s a lie by omission.

‘You sure that’s all it is?’ Dad’s eyes narrow and he really looks at me.

The moment ends when a knock at the door makes us break eye contact. I’m sure it must be housekeeping this time, and I’m about to turn them away when Celia’s voice rings through the closed door.

‘Zoe, can I come in?’

My heart sinks at the thought of having to pretend some more. At this rate I may as well have gone down to breakfast.

‘Want me to tell her to go?’ Dad asks.