The main road was traffic-free, yet when they reached the junction vehicles were backed up one behind the other like they had been for some time. They eased into place. Horns beeped, drivers leant out of car windows. The streets glistened orange. The air was warm with exhaust fumes and barely contained frustration.

‘Shit,’ he muttered.

‘Dee.’

‘Sorry. Should’ve left earlier.’

‘It’s half two.’

‘Yeah, but still.’

He tapped the wheel, trying to relax. Misra put her hand on his.

‘We did the right thing.’

He feigned a smile. They kissed. She held his chin in her palm, rubbing. He closed his eyes.

‘All right there, trooper?’ he called back.

‘Yes, Daddy.’

‘Good.’

They moved a few metres, stopped. He turned on the radio, pressing until he found Radio 4. A lively burst of chatter filled the speakers. Misra turned it down. There were three voices as far as Dapo could tell, two men, one woman. They were discussing the government’s response to ‘the issue’, as it was termed. A particularly nasal male voice seemed vocal and more distressed than the others.

‘They don’t even know,’ the nasal voice said. ‘They don’t even know what happens next, or what people should do.’

‘How would they?’ the woman broke in.

‘How would they not?’’

‘This is a particular phenomenon for a particular time and, as such, we must wait for the information to gather before making uncertain allegations or placing undue expectations on people who quite frankly are doing their best …’

‘There’s nothing to stop them from conducting a speedier, more thorough investigation. We don’t have time for anything else. At least confirm what we think we know. Don’t leave it to social media and political pundits, armchair loonies the lot of them, left or right. Say what we think we know! After ten days, these things are moving—’

‘But that’s obvious … People can see it …’ the woman said.

‘That’s all we know, and it’s precisely why people are panicking—’ the second man said, in a tone suggesting he was trying to bring peace.

Misra sat forward, pressed another button. She gave Dapo a fierce look and sat back.

They moved one car length. Another man was speaking, dreamy and musical, under the influence of something Dapo thought. He wouldn’t have minded something himself. The voice was deep, husky, close to the microphone. It whispered into their ears.