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I can feel my lip wobble. ‘It’s my birthday today.’

Gandalf closes his eyes and arranges his fingers to make a peace sign. After a few moments it is clear that he may stay frozen this way for some time.

Pointless. Utterly pointless.

I receive a few half-hearted birthday congratulations, but the alcohol-free bombshell has sapped the joy from us all.

‘I’ll see if they can organise a birthday cake for you,’ Oliver says quietly to me. The sudden kindness brings a lump to my throat.

‘When is dinner?’ Oliver asks Gandalf.

Gandalf’s eyes spring open, quick to answer. ‘Hunger eez a state of mind.’

‘Well, no, it clearly isn’t,’ Oliver says impatiently. ‘We must have missed the evening meal because we were delayed by…’ He looks over his shoulder at me and I wait for him to blame me for the airport mix-up with the police. ‘By an incident at the airport. We’ll both need to eat.’

Thank God, I’m starving.

‘It eez good you fast. No food on first day for anyone. Just sleep. Autophagy vill reset entire immune system,’ Gandalf says with a smile as though this is good news.

Oliver’s jaw drops open. I look him up and down again. He probably needs to eat his body weight in protein every day to maintain that kind of physique.

Endless Cloud sweeps forward to wish everyone a good night. He throws what looks like crushed lavender pot pourri at us from a small basket in his hand. Most of it seems to land in my hair. ‘May your spirits be at one with your souls. Rest and be at peace.’

This day keeps on getting worse and worse. I march away from him towards my room. I poke the heavy key into the lock and push open the large ornate door with a loud creak. As promised, the room is so ablaze with the glare of crystals reflecting from every surface that I hardly know where to look.

I’m so ridiculously tired and hungry, I fall face first into the big soft bed, relieved it’s not a straw mattress on the floor.

‘Happy birthday,’ I whisper to myself, and within seconds I am out like a light.

6

What seems like a few hours later, I’m woken by a godawful clanging. My eyes spring open, trying to make sense of the pitch black. I hear a scurrying noise outside and fly to my balcony.

‘Fire! Where’s the fire?’ I hear someone yelling to my right. I can just about make out a huge shape on the balcony next to mine.

‘Oliver? Is that you?’

‘Nell?’ he yells back, sounding panicked. ‘What’s the ringing? I smell smoke. Is there a forest fire?’

Like I should know?

‘Would I be standing talking to you if the whole place was burning down?’ I say. I can hear my stroppy tone, and I’m not loving it, but before Oliver can say anything, we hear a wailing sound.

Oliver gasps. I can just make out his hands flying to his face like that painting The Scream. ‘It must have spread to the retreat. Quick, Nell, grab your essentials and get out of there. We need to evacuate. Now!’

He really isn’t great in a crisis situation but he is thoughtful, I’ll give him that.

‘Now?’ All I can think of is that, apart from Ava’s GHDs and Chanel sunglasses, I haven’t anything worth saving.

‘Yes. Over there, look!’ He points to the source of light being thrown across the retreat towards us. He’s right, there is a strange orange glow rising from the far side of the retreat.

I turn to him. He’s standing on the balcony next to mine, a few feet away, but there’s something not quite right about this situation. In the panic, my eyes adjust to the darkness. No, that can’t be right.

‘Are you naked?’ I squeak.

What is wrong with him?

‘I didn’t have time to find my robe,’ he says. ‘Besides, I hardly think it matters when it’s a life-or-death situation.’