‘My performance,’ I gasped, throwing back the covers. I’d promised Barky I would make sure I was well by Friday. It was our busiest night, and Barky liked us in early. By the looks of things it was getting on for eleven o’clock and I still needed to wash and eat before making my way to the theatre.

‘Stay where you are, Zillah,’ Vincent said. ‘There is no question of you performing tonight. Crillick knows you’re unwell and has given you the rest of the week off. You don’t have to go back until your regular rehearsals on Monday.’

Hesitantly, I leant back against the pillows, grateful that I could stay beneath the sheets, but confused again about the lost time. Vincent placed his hand on my forehead briefly and brushed away a stray curl. As he did so, I heard the carpentry work again.

‘What do you remember?’ he said.

‘It sounded like hammering. Sawing, maybe,’ I said. ‘Like building work. I heard workmen shouting to one another.’

Vincent looked confused. ‘I mean what do you remember of the docks?’

I froze. When I didn’t speak, he continued, ‘I asked you not to go there, Zillah, didn’t I?’

Had he? I had to cast my mind back before it came to me. And then I remembered how adamant he was about not heading eastwards when I’d suggested we go out that way for our day trip. It had struck me as odd at the time.

‘If I ask you not to do something, I expect you to obey me. One of the exporters found you huddled in his doorway when he went to work. He said you were a little confused where the cold had got to you. Thank God you had the presence of mind to give him my name.’

Vincent was rarely stern with me, and there was no call for it when, by his own omission, I’d been unwell. I had been waiting for a boat. The opium and the gin and the cold must’ve got to me, but he hadn’t finished yet.

‘What were you doing there, anyway? I went to collect you at the theatre and Barky said he’d sent you home feeling poorly. Well, Zillah?’

I rarely cried, but I brushed my hand across my eyes to let him think he’d upset me. While he was ranting it was impossible to gather my thoughts. The artifice worked. Vincent stopped pacing and came and sat down on the bed by my side. He was still angry but made an effort to soften his voice.