She looked at Shaheena’s text again. If this was the end of Beverly, Jemima wanted to enjoy one last moment with her. She would call Shaheena later but while the executioner’s keys still jangled in the distance, she would head to Nostromo. Azi and Rania would say kind words and make her a nice, milky latte with a piece of cake she hadn’t asked for but would gratefully receive. Yes, Nostromo was ideal. It was where Beverly had come in to being and therefore the right place to hold her wake.

Jemima pushed open the café door. The blissful relief of being somewhere warm and welcoming, was instant.

‘Am I pleased to see you! My usual please, Azi,’ said Jemima as she went to sit in the airplane seats.

‘I’ve a good mind not to serve you,’ Azi stropped.

Jemima blinked at her, bewildered.

‘Is this… Are you joking?’ she spluttered, looking to Rania for clarity.

Rania shrugged and busied herself taking cups out of the dishwasher.

‘You threw away your chance, you silly girl,’ Azi fumed.

Jemima shuddered. She knew Azi had a temper but never imagined she’d be on the receiving end of it.

Rania rested a hand on her wife’s arm. ‘Az, you said you would leave it.’

‘Yes, well, I say a lot,’ Azi said wriggling from Rania.

‘He chose Simi. I didn’t do anything,’ said Jemima.

‘No, you didn’t. This is my point. Eight pounds,’ said Azi holding out her hand while pointedly turning away.

Shaking, Jemima rummaged in her pockets for change. ‘Have you put your prices up?’

‘Chance tax,’ said Azi as she cluttered about, preparing Jemima’s drink, ‘because he probably won’t show his face in here anymore in case he bumps into you.’

‘Well, that’s not exactly right. He said he was getting ready for a training thing…’ said Rania as Azi shot her a glare.

‘A training thing he’s doing to avoid bumping into Jemima!’ she snapped and with an indignant swish, she disappeared into the back room.

Rania gave Jemima an apologetic shrug. She picked up the metal jug Azi had abandoned and continued steaming the milk.

A second later Azi stuck her head back around the doorway, ‘And she’s having that to go.’

‘Yes, my love.’ Rania smiled forlornly at Jemima as she replaced the mug with a take-away cup.

Jemima backed away from the counter, shaking. She pulled out her phone going straight to Rebecca’s last message. Her hand waivered before typing, I’m in. This wasn’t running away. It was pragmatism. Why stick around if you’re not wanted – anywhere.

‘Here,’ said Rania, putting Jemima’s coffee on the counter before beckoning her close. ‘I saw him heading to the park for a break.’

Jemima looked up at her as she gripped the cardboard holder. Rania was sweet but it was too late.

‘Cheers,’ she said as she added two more names to her list of people to escape.

‘Don’t forget, Jem, the park,’ said Rania.

Jemima shrugged and left.