"I'd promised to go right back to the Home once we were through," she says, but it's the weakest of protests, more to give her the excuse that she'd tried than anything else. Being cooped up had made all of them irritable with one another, prone to squabbles and snappishness as they huddled in the common room or picked listlessly at whatever dinner the staff scrounged up from the pantry's dwindling stock. Being with her friends, even just for an evening, is exactly the respite she needs.

"I'll call them once we're back at your apartment," she says, with a single, emphatic nod of her head. "They'll probably be glad there's one less person there to keep track of tonight."