I briefly consider his offer, before deciding against it. Celia could well be a breath of fresh air. A no-nonsense antidote to the dread and despair into which I find myself sinking. ‘It’s okay, I don’t mind if she comes in.’

Dad gives a brief nod. ‘Well, okay, I’m going for a walk. I’ve got my phone with me. Call if you need anything.’

I’m a little stunned. Dad has never asked if I needed anything. Not since I left home, and even before that he wasn’t the most forthcoming of parents. Maybe he’s sensed my fear and worry. Maybe it’s activated some recessive parenting gene.

‘Okay, Zoe?’ He shakes me out of my musing.

‘Yeah, okay, thanks. Wrap up warm. I’ll see you later.’

He nods, leaves the room and lets Celia in on his way out. They mumble a brief greeting to one another as they pass.

‘Sorry…’ Celia steps hesitantly into the room. ‘Guy’s not leaving on my account, is he?’

‘No, he’s going for a walk.’

‘Good. I hope I’m not intruding. I was just a little worried when you didn’t come down to breakfast. Toby said you weren’t feeling too well. I’ve brought you up some paracetamol and some pastries from the buffet. I know you can order room service, but you might not be bothered to do that if you’re feeling peaky.’

‘That’s so kind. Come and sit down, if you like.’ I wonder if she’d be quite so kind if she knew what I’d done.

‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ She opens up her capacious handbag and pulls out a couple of napkins which are now shedding flakes of pastry over the floor. ‘Oh dear, I’m making such a mess.’ She places the napkins on the table by the window. ‘You sit there, and I’ll get the kettle on, unless you want coffee?’

‘Tea’s great. I already had a coffee.’ I do as she suggests and sit at the table as though I’m acting a part.

‘That was a lovely evening, wasn’t it?’ She bustles about at the large dresser and I let her get on with it. ‘Did you enjoy yourself? I thought our finger-food selections were spot on. Everyone at our table was raving about the arancini balls. You looked like you were having a good time anyway.’

‘I did have a good time, thanks, Celia.’ Until I wasn’t anymore.

‘You left quite early though,’ she says pointedly.

‘Yes, I know, sorry. I was just telling Dad that I think I overdid things. I was looking after Madeline – she had a bit too much to drink – and then I suddenly came over all tired.’