But that was gone, he thought, as he emerged from the toilet to find the conductor waiting, phone in an outstretched hand, as if to emphasize exactly how little intention she had of running off with it. Even now, he had little curiosity about what she’d needed it for, which of the infinite possible crises he might have helped to defuse. It felt naïve, now, embarrassing, to think about how much energy he’d put into worrying about other people, all this time. ‘I hope it helped,’ said James, glancing down at his shoes.

‘It did, and anyway, well, thanks again,’ said the Welsh woman all in one tapering breath, so the last clause was almost inaudible. Gina, said her name-badge; he noticed it as she turned to go down the corridor. She was gone, her footsteps swallowed by the clanking of the train, and James felt all over again the meanness of this space, and turned back to the door of his cabin.

To open it, he shifted the phone from right hand to left. Its upturned face glowed at him. He had no intention of looking at it until he looked at it. It was a reflex, the way it was for anyone who had a phone. It was an involuntary motion that made him flick the screen down, down, to see what had been unleashed by the message he’d sent four hours ago. The collective bulk of the messages hit him in the guts and he shut the door behind him and sagged onto the bed, hearing the springs mutter in grievance.

‘Christ almighty,’ he said, loudly enough that it could have been heard outside.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, where it should have stayed all along, and took hold of his breathing, which had gone fast and shallow. Even in this three-second glimpse, there had been the names. Karl, Michaela. Sally, even, in Australia. The people he was trying not to think about.

Eighty-two texts and fourteen missed calls. A deluge. In January he’d received just two texts in an entire week, and one of them was to offer him two-for-one pizzas if he replied with the word PEPPERONI. Eighty-two messages sent by people who had been disrupted, moved in some way, by the one he’d sent.