I stared at the cigarette paper. It was such a small thing, so thin it was almost transparent, and the ink Aidan had written the words in was smudged and discoloured from its long sojourn among my cosmetics. But it was a miracle that it was there at all. Why had I not thrown it away as soon as Aidan had left the room that day? Contemptuous of him as I was, what had made me keep the paper? And what had he said as he had written on it? I closed my eyes and searched my memory. He had wanted me to take care. “Do not disregard yourself,” he had said, with a sadness I had not understood.

I opened my eyes. Aidan had said something else that day. He had told me not to disregard “some people” who cared about me, which I had assumed meant himself. Knowing he was jealous of my affair with David, I had dismissed his words. But now I remembered them clearly. “They will be there if you ever need their help.”

Aidan was the very last person on earth I wanted to see. Normally I would have run as far away as possible from his voice saying, “I told you so”. But things were not normal. With one stroke my journey away from Sarah Freebody towards a wise and sophisticated Clara Hope, capable of enchanting both David Penn and the cinema audience, had been derailed. I could not go in either direction, but I could not stay where I was either. However wary events had made me, I would have to take Aidan at his word. At least for now.

I put the paper in my jacket pocket, crammed my hat on my head, touched my lips with lipstick, packed my case, picked it up along with my handbag and fur, put the key on the bedside table and left the room. I did all this as quickly as I could in order to stop myself thinking. I had to get out of the Royal Albion, and, for good or for ill, Aidan had offered me an escape route.

In the corridor, I pushed the door to the stairwell and listened. The only sounds came from the dining room, where dinner was in full swing. I felt I would rather die than pass by the reception desk, with the clerks smirking and whispering. As quietly as I could, struggling a little with my case, I went down the stairs. At ground level there was a door bearing a notice saying Fire exit only. Please keep locked. My heart sank, but when I tried it I found it had the kind of lock you could open from the inside, but not the outside, without a key. Limp with relief, I twisted the latch, slipped through the door, pulled it behind me and stepped into the darkness.