have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start.

Actually, that’s not true. I totally do.

As soon as I’m back at the flat, I charge straight into the bedroom. Rin’s lying on her front on the bottom bunk, reading an English dictionary with her head cocked to one side: pink lace dress on, purple-socked feet crossed behind her. Kylie’s sprawled out across the small of her back in exactly the same outfit. Poppy’s perched against the wall of the top bunk, carefully painting her nails pink and humming a riff from The Sound of Music over and over and over again.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

They stop what they’re doing and look at me.

My cheeks are hot, and my breathing is getting faster and faster. There’s a tight feeling around my throat. “You left early this morning, Poppy. Why didn’t you wake me up before you went?”

Poppy looks blank. “What for?”

“For my photo shoot with Yuka! You knew I had to be—”

Rin knew about the job, but Poppy didn’t.

“Oh no,” Poppy says, her hand flying to her mouth. “Did you have a shoot this morning? Did you miss it?”

I shake my head. “Rin – you didn’t hear the alarms?”

Rin’s chin is starting to wobble. “I hear no alarm, Harry-chan. I have whales on.”

“What about the doorbell? It was being rung for two hours and none of us heard it?”

Poppy’s eyes fly open. “Oh, Harriet, it’s been crackling for ages and it finally broke. I left a note about it for you.” She points at a small piece of paper duly stuck next to the bed. “And we left another one on the front door asking visitors to ring our phones.”

My phone.

I crouch down and start fumbling around under my bed. After three or four seconds, I find it tucked behind a stray pillow. The battery is totally dead.

Oh my God. What is wrong with me? What kind of person am I?

Actually, I’d really appreciate it if nobody answers that.

Then something else in my head clicks. I run to the bird alarm, pick it up and sure enough: it’s still on British time. All my alarms are set to go off three hours from now.

The entire morning has been my fault.

But what about the shoes? I think. Except …

Nobody actually told me to put them on, did they?

Maybe they were a gift. Maybe the note was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Maybe they weren’t even for me.

This is exactly what happens when you just blindly do what notes tell you without asking appropriate questions first. Did Lewis Carroll teach me nothing?

Rin and Poppy are staring at me with wide, slightly reproachful eyes, and suddenly I don’t want to be here any more. I want to be far, far away, in a universe where I am not such a horrible human being. In a nicer, alternative world where I take responsibility for my own mistakes like a nearly adult, instead of stropping about, ruining things and then blaming everyone else like a spoilt little child.

It’s moments like this when my unpopularity is nowhere near as much of a mystery as I’d like it to be.

“I’m so sorry,” I say for the billionth time, my face getting steadily hotter. I start backing out of the room. “I didn’t mean to … I don’t know what I’m … I’m” – I blush even deeper – “I’m so, so sorry.”

And in a wave of shame, I grab my mobile and the charger, run into the hallway and climb into the cupboard.