‘You just need to keep your chin up, Zoe. That Cassie Barrington’s a talentless z-lister who has to lie to get a pay cheque. You should pity her.’

‘Celia, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘You’d come to the same conclusion on your own. Now let’s enjoy our lunch and forget about she who shall not be named.’

‘Deal,’ I reply, tearing off a piece of bread roll and dunking it in my soup.

‘That’s not the only bizarre thing to happen today. I saw Dina again.’

‘Really?’ Celia doesn’t sound altogether convinced, so I tell her what happened earlier in the salon. She listens carefully, waiting until I’ve finished before replying. ‘Your nerves must be shot to pieces. It’s a good thing you’ve got your party coming up to take your mind off all this.’

‘Only it’s not exactly taking my mind off it. It’s throwing up all these strange memories.’

‘Oh?’

‘You know, of how Dina couldn’t make the wedding, and then when she went missing.’

‘Well, it seems to me that you’re letting yourself worry about things outside your control. If Dina’s here in Shaftesbury and she doesn’t want to contact you, then you have to respect that.’

‘But she’s my sister.’

‘I know, love. But you still can’t control what she does. Likewise with Cassie – you can’t stop her behaving like a little bitch.’

I raise my eyebrows, rarely having heard Celia swear before.

‘You need to put both of them out of your head and move forward with your life. Forget the past. No good comes of dwelling on it.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘No suppose about it.’ She lays down her soup spoon for a moment and reaches into her handbag. ‘Before I forget, here are the latest flyers from Madeline about the redevelopment appeal. Can you put some in the salon, and stick one in the window?’

‘Sure.’ I take the bundle from her and slip them into my bag. ‘I’ll ask Becky to ask Jennifer – I don’t think I’m in the position to ask for any favours at the moment.’

Celia nods and gets back to her soup. ‘Needs a little more salt.’

I look around, but there’s none on the table. ‘I’ll get some.’ I stand and head to the counter just as my phone rings. There’s no number displayed, and I briefly wonder if it might be Cassie ringing me before dismissing that idea as preposterous. I doubt I’ll hear from her for at least another ten years. If I’m lucky, that is.

‘Hello?’

There’s no reply.

‘Hello?’

My pulse begins to pound, and the noises of the café seem to fade away.

‘Dina, is that you?’

Whoever it is hangs up and the sounds of the café return – laughter, chatter, the clink of cutlery against china.