The shower was weak but welcome. She turned the television on, just to hear voices, and got ready to go downstairs again. She didn’t hear Michael as he walked along the landing, past her door.

He had entered the pub, wondering what to do.

The bar wasn’t crowded, and nor was the restaurant area. He was in a new state of uncertainty, though, because nobody could expect a room in a place like this if they hadn’t booked one in advance. People didn’t walk into hotels any more: they planned their journeys. He would be met with suspicion and rejection, and he couldn’t face inventing some story about a broken-down car. He knew what he looked like: he looked desperate.

The pub would not welcome him.

He was about to turn around and leave when the receptionist arrived.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘How are you tonight?’

Michael saw a frank, friendly face. The man looked busy, without being rushed or hassled, and he was looking into Michael’s eyes as if he saw only a normal, harmless customer.

Michael licked his lips, realising he was actually frightened.

‘Good evening,’ he said. ‘I’m fine, thank you. But… I’m in a bit of an awkward situation.’

‘How can I help?’

If anything, the man was concerned.

‘I need a room, please. For tonight.’

‘That’s easy. Just tonight?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Because tomorrow we’re chock-a-block, one of those walking parties, but tonight… I’ll double-check.’

He had turned away. He was looking at a computer screen.

‘Tonight, you’re in luck. Single or double, sir?’

‘Single, please.’

‘Room twelve. It’s one of the nicest rooms we have, I think. It’s a double, but I don’t think that matters – we can upgrade you.’

He clicked the mouse.

‘Bed and breakfast is eighty-five, and I can cancel the supplement. Dinner as well? That’s one hundred and four.’

‘I think I’ll go for bed and breakfast.’

‘Not a problem. Have you stayed with us before?’

‘No.’

‘Then if I could trouble you to fill in the card – your name, phone number. Are you parked in the car park?’

‘I came by bus, actually.’

‘Oh.’

The man was surprised, but there was still no suspicion or fear. Why should there be? Perhaps people’s plans did change just like that, and this was more common than Michael had thought.

‘What time would you like your breakfast?’ said the man.

‘Seven-thirty, please.’

‘Seven-thirty.’

Michael took his wallet out. He had one twenty-pound note left, plus all the change from his fare – clearly, the credit card would have to work its magic. He watched its progress as it was slotted into the payment machine, feeling deep in his bones that this would be the moment of terrible truth, when everything would grind to a halt. The smiles were about to fade, and the trust would evaporate.

‘I need a valid card, sir.’