Walking the gauntlet, I recognise a few faces that pass by us, and I do my best not to let my jaw hit the floor. The other less famous guests greet Castro with familiarity and acknowledge my presence by his side. His face beams as he surveys my countenance. It is an odd feeling to be at such ease with myself, but I’m painfully aware he plays a big part in calming my inner storm.

Finally inside, lynda motions to me. She makes our apologies to the men and hurries us towards the ladies’ toilets. She looks into each cubicle, ensuring they’re empty, before locking the entrance door.

“God! I...