“Never mind. You’ll see.” I’d already noticed that the final entry was in Bella’s handwriting, and this would have to be enough – whichever name she’d left, having forgotten she’d written it down. “Look here,” I said, planting my hand on the blank section. Then a shaky breath escaped me, and I wished I’d shut the book or never opened it. The entry consisted of the date I’d previously visited the hotel, and my name.

Roy stared at it before pointing his flashlight at the only set of footprints that led out of the hotel. “I thought I was tripping, but it’s true. You’ve been here already. You wrote that in the book. What the fuck are you trying to do?”

“That’s not my writing, Roy. You know it’s not.”

He gave it a disgusted grimace and made for the exit. “So what’s it supposed to be?”

“Don’t you recognise it? Surely you must have seen it somewhere. Try and think.”

He shoved the phone into his pocket, having extinguished the light, and hauled at the door to shift the carpet that had forced it almost shut. “Can’t even fucking—” he snarled and twisted to face me. “Can you let me out, please?”

As I strode across the yielding floor I felt as if I were trying to erase my own tracks. I’d hardly opened the door wide enough for Roy when he shouldered his way out of the hotel. “You were trying to make it look like the writing in that book in the library, weren’t you?” he said while I struggled out onto the littered threshold. “Why would you ever want to do that? Did you bring me just to see?”

“Roy, you have to know that makes no sense.” When his face admitted nothing I said “Have you honestly never seen Bella’s writing?”

“Why would I? We’ve got phones.” His eyes widened and his mouth sagged open, a mask of disbelief. “You’re still getting at her when you said you wouldn’t. That’s enough and more than. I’m going home.”

“Roy,” I tried pleading, but he was already striding across the gravel. As I followed him I had a sense that we were being watched triumphantly from the hotel – that the darkness inside was victorious. By the time I reached the street, having dodged along the path that felt too much like the lightless interior of the hotel, Roy was tramping past the houses. “Let me give you a lift at least,” I called in desperation.