The lyre is kept in the small living area off Felix’s bedroom. As soon as they walk in, they realize he has company next door. It’s Victoria. Amara would recognize her ecstatic moaning anywhere, although it sounds like she is putting in an extra effort for the boss.

Dido grabs her arm, stopping her from walking further in. “Should we be here?” she whispers.

“Not like we don’t hear her every night.”

“Yes, but that’s different; she doesn’t know we’re here now!”

Their deliberations are interrupted by a sound neither have ever heard before. “Is that Felix?” Amara asks, incredulous. They forget their scruples and listen, looking at each other in astonishment. It’s unquestionably Felix groaning in pleasure.

“I can’t believe it!” Dido says. “This is the face I normally get.” She stands, imitating Felix’s swagger, and pulls a look of pompous disdain, as if staring down at the top of an imaginary woman’s head.

Amara snorts with laughter then claps a hand over her mouth to cover the noise. They both try to suppress their giggles, but the effort not to laugh only makes it worse, and soon, they are shaking with silent hysteria.

“I love you; I would die for you. I love you. I love you . . .”

“She’s really overdoing it now!” Amara says. “He’ll never fall for that, surely?” From the sounds next door however, it seems she has overestimated Felix’s powers of discernment.

She and Dido wait. The shrieking and moaning finally comes to an end, but still, Victoria doesn’t stop with her protestations of devotion.

“I love you so much; you’re everything to me. I love you. I love you . . .”

There is a pleading, debased sound to her voice that Amara can barely recognise. It almost sounds as if she is crying. Felix’s voice is soothing in answer but too low to make out the words.

“She’s some actress,” Amara whispers. “He seems to have bought it all!”

“We really shouldn’t be hearing this.” Dido looks uncomfortable. She tiptoes to the corridor door and slams it open as if they have just come in. “Shall we get dressed first, or do you want to play?” she demands loudly.

Instantly, the voices next door fall silent. Amara and Dido tramp about, getting their clothes out of the chest, running through their first song. Felix opens the door, stripped to the waist, unconcerned to see them both. “You can go now,” he says, calling back into the room.

Victoria hurries past, clothes disheveled, her face damp, perhaps with sweat. Amara tries to catch her eye and wink, but she avoids looking at her, instead stepping into the corridor and softly closing the door.