‘UB?’ It takes me a long time to work out where I am and where I am meant to be going, but then I open my eyes again and I recognise the internal walls of the ger. The colourful hangings. The smoke hole at the top. I need a drink.

Martin reads my mind. ‘You’re in luck. One of Sarnai’s friends brought supplies for the next tour group. Apparently we could’ve had stuff like this too but it wasn’t offered. Anyway, we were more authentic. I can get you some milk tea if you like.’ He’s holding a can of Coke, and he pretends to take it away again, just as my hand goes to grab it. He lets me have it, the ring-pull already popped, and I drink it greedily. It’s freezing cold and it burns down the rawness of my throat. I feel like I might stop breathing, but at this moment, I don’t even care.

‘Don’t know what happened to you two last night. We lost you in the crowd after the ceremony. That was something else, wasn’t it? I’m definitely going to pursue the spiritual connections I’ve made on this trip. I’m quite excited about going home. Getting started on my new plans for life.’ He leans down and rubs my shoulder. ‘I had thought that maybe … you know, yesterday … that me and you…’

‘Please stop talking. My head can’t cope right now.’

He sighs, stares out of the open door. ‘I tried to get it out of Carrie, but she reckons she can’t remember what you two got up to last night either.’

Good, I think. I don’t want to remember right now. My body aches from head to toe, and what I’d really like is another Coke, a handful of heavy-duty painkillers, and maybe a hot bath. I realise that this combination would likely kill me on its own, never mind whatever it is that is still in my system from last night. I close my eyes again, trying to remember last night, but the last thing that’s stored in there is watching the ceremony. Everyone chanting and throwing milk in the air. After that is a yawning chasm of complete blank.

It’s far from the first time I’ve had a blackout after drinking and drugs – I am assuming I have taken drugs, smoked something hard core, because my throat is in ruins, and I can smell the stale, cloying scent on my clothes. I know that bit by bit, the fragments of lost memory will come back to me, haunting me, shaming me – and I know that some bits will never come back at all. Between me and Carrie, I imagine we’ll be able to piece most of it back together, but there’s no guarantee.