Despite the pounding headache and the bone-weary tiredness, I barely slept a wink back in the guesthouse. Geriel tried to coax us into the sitting area to chat about our trip, but neither of us had the energy, and I had the feeling that Carrie didn’t want to talk to anyone about what had happened. I wasn’t sure yet if she remembered more than I did, but I heard her tossing and turning in the night, crying out a couple of times – mumbling things that were incoherent and nonsensical.

Luckily I remembered to charge my phone as soon as we got back, so I spent most of the sleepless night scrolling through Facebook, reading about Sam’s exploits. There is definitely a girl on the scene now. A vacuous blonde is with him in several of the photos, her comments beneath full of heart emojis and kisses. I fought the urge to hurl the phone across the room, but then I heard Carrie snuffling in her sleep and I remembered that Sam was in the past now. I have more important things to think about.

More memories of the night at the festival have tried to force themselves to the front of my mind, wanting me to deal with them – but I’m not ready for that yet. We’re about to embark on a ninety-hour train journey. There will be plenty of time for us both to dissect the night, and our feelings for one another.

Because I know now that Carrie has feelings for me. The first memory that came to me was of the kiss we shared on the way to our readings with the shaman. I’m savouring it for now, not yet sure where it will lead.