‘Good old, Mr Carrero. Don’t defy, question or cause conflict, right? Do as he says, shut up and look pretty. Don’t question him in front of anyone! What will you do if I don’t, huh? Bodily throw me off your plane?’

I have no clue how I went from sombre to spitting teeth and trying to goad him into a fight, but I have all this pent-up anger in me that alcohol is stirring up, and it has nowhere else to go except at him. He caused it, and now it’s bubbling away inside me like ...