‘Oh,’ he said, looking from me to the two glasses of wine he was holding, ‘do you have to go?’

‘Well, I…’ I looked down at my orange-stained bathrobe and shrunken nightwear, ‘I feel like I need a change of clothes. I smell like the Sainsbury’s cheese counter.’

He laughed. ‘Not from where I was sitting,’ he said, looking again at the wine. ‘But it’s fine if you need to head off.’

I hesitated for just a moment and then held out my hand. ‘Well, if you don’t mind, then I don’t mind.’

He handed me a glass and I settled myself into one of Kerry’s beige armchairs, while he sat back down on the Wotsit-strewn sofa.

‘I hear you’re going to put your smelly old towel in the bin,’ he said, glancing at my turban, ‘setting fire to it not being an option, since the candle incident.’

I frowned. ‘I haven’t heard about the candle incident.’

Cameron grimaced. ‘Harry and Ollie put a bagful of birthday-cake candles they’d been collecting, into a plastic bowl and then they threw in a few of the matches Ollie had brought with him from home.’

‘No,’ I gasped.

‘Yes. The idea was to create a giant candle from all the leftover ones. Fortunately, Kerry came upstairs to see what was going on, because there hadn’t been any banging, crashing or screaming for a couple of minutes and that made her suspicious.’

I laughed and removed the towel from my head, running my fingers through my hair in lieu of a brush.

‘So why are you binning the towel?’ asked Cameron.

‘Because I suspect I might be in line for a new one at Christmas,’ I said, glancing towards the hallway and keeping my voice low.

‘Oh yes, that’s right, you are. But I won’t entirely spoil the surprise by telling you which members of the Marvel universe it features.’

‘I wonder if I can get a bathmat to match,’ I said, turning my head at the sound of footsteps on the pavement outside.

‘I don’t think it will be them yet,’ said Cameron.

‘I really hope not. It’s barely nine.’

‘So how was Giles this evening?’

‘Is it too disloyal to tell you that he was a complete and utter nervous wreck?’

He shot me a conspiratorial look. ‘Kerry too.’

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ he said quietly, his gaze turning to a gilt-framed photograph of Mark and Harry which sat on the mantelpiece.

‘Has Kerry dated at all, since…’ I began, but found myself unable to complete the question.

‘This is her first date since Mark.’ He smiled, but his sadness was unmistakeable.

‘You know, whatever happens, Giles will protect her feelings,’ I said. ‘And Harry’s too.’

‘Yes, I get that impression.’