She saw that the waiter had almost finished offloading his tray of appetisers and would probably be heading back through the double doors in just a short moment.

Kneeling down, she eased one of the double doors open a small way and squeezed out into the restaurant. Getting down on her belly, putting a large pot of bamboo between herself and the gang, she crawled forwards and rolled beneath a table just as the waiter made his way back to the kitchen. Lying under the table holding her breath, she watched his shiny black shoes pass by just a metre or so from her nose.

As soon as he had gone back through the double doors to the kitchen, she slithered forward in a commando crawl, emerging from under the table to cross the centre of the restaurant. Her heart beat furiously as she pulled herself along on her stomach, trying not to make any sharp movements that might attract their attention. Glancing up at them, she saw that they were still wrapped up in chatter and laughter.

Never had she felt more exposed in her life as she did crawling across the middle of the restaurant in full view of the gang, her black dress sharply defined against the light-coloured marble floor. At any moment any one of them – Nancy, Stephen, Rick, Shane – could turn and notice her out of the corner of their eye and then all would be lost.

Bailey gritted her teeth and pushed herself forwards across the cold marble, each second seeming to stretch out into an agonising eternity. Finally she reached the alcove with the coat rack, pulling herself into the small space with a huge sigh of relief. Momentarily she was once again concealed from their view.

Getting up on her knees, she began to riffle through the pockets of the jackets hanging on the rack. In the first one, no phone, no keys. The same with the second. Nothing in the third. She cursed. Then, putting her hands in the pocket of the fourth jacket, her fingers closed around a bristling metal bundle. Yes! She pulled them carefully out, trying not to make them clink. A key fob displaying the Range Rover icon told her that these were likely the keys to Rick’s car, and looking at the jacket she’d taken them from, she now recognised it as his black Dior cashmere overcoat. Checking the rest of the coats for a mobile phone, her search came up empty. Still, at least she had the car keys – one out of two wasn’t bad. Her priority now was to proceed with all haste to some place where she could make an emergency call.

Standing up, she peered around the corner of the alcove at the gang. They were still occupied in noisy conversation. The door was only around two metres away, but she would be exposed once more when she went to open it.

Clutching the car keys in her hand, she took a deep breath and tiptoed from the alcove to the door. Through the glass panel of the door, she could see the welcoming darkness outside. She was almost there. She was almost free. Just a few steps more.