‘Yes, I’m Zoe. Please can you let her know I need to speak to her urgently.’

‘She should be out in half an hour or so. If you go through to the brasserie, I’ll get someone to bring you a drink while you wait.’

‘Coffee? Are you serving food as well?’

‘I… uh.’ His face flushes and he seems a little lost for words. This doesn’t bode well.

‘Mrs Johnson.’ I turn at the sound of a woman’s voice. ‘I thought I saw you pull up outside.’

‘Vicky, thank goodness. I really need to talk to you.’

Dressed in a tailored pale-grey suit, Vicky, the hotel’s general manager, is about five years older than me, tall and slim, with a sleek conker-brown ponytail. She gives me a bemused look. ‘Nothing wrong, I hope.’

‘Well’ – I decide to launch straight into it, I’m on a tight schedule here – ‘I’ve just heard a rather worrying rumour about the environmental health department, and I need to talk to you about it.’

Her eyes widen and she ushers me past the reception desk into the back office, where a couple of staff sit at desks and glance up as we walk through. It feels a little strange to be in an area obviously not meant for customers’ eyes.

‘Sorry to bring you back here,’ Vicky says in a low voice, ‘but we all get a bit twitchy when that particular department’s name is spoken aloud.’

‘I’m sure. So is it true?’

‘Come through to my office.’ She ushers me through into another functional room with a bookshelf, a desk and a view out onto a deserted courtyard. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘No, I’m here on my lunch break. I don’t have long. Didn’t you get my voicemails or my text?’

‘Sorry, no, I’ve been in meetings all morning.’ She smooths her jacket, sits in front of the desk, rather than behind it, and gestures to me to take a seat next to her.

‘So, what’s going on?’ I sit, getting a bad feeling. She’s definitely looking a bit shifty. I think about the nightmare of having to call everyone to cancel tomorrow’s party. To explain what’s happened. I suddenly feel like crying with disappointment and exhaustion.

Vicky blows air out through even white teeth. ‘Look, there’s nothing to worry about, Mrs Johnson.’

‘So you didn’t have a visit from environmental health then?’

She tilts her head from side to side. ‘We-ll. We did—’

‘What?!’

‘But it’s fine.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

She pauses. ‘Because there was no point in upsetting you for nothing.’

‘What happened?’

‘Nothing.’

I give her a look.

‘They did a spot check yesterday evening. Found that everything was in order. And then they left.’