Like several other members of the jury, Meg had taken to bringing her own lunch in, rather than having to go out during the recess. She’d have preferred to have taken a walk around Lewes and got some fresh air, particularly on this glorious, sunny early afternoon, after the stuffy atmosphere of the court, but it gave her the opportunity to talk to any of the jurors doing the same as herself. Today there were just three other jurors in the room. Good, she thought, a chance to speak one to one.

Hari Singh had a wonderful-smelling picnic box, from which he again pulled samosas and proffered them to his colleagues. Maisy Waller looked at the one handed to her, dubiously, and nibbled the edge like a mouse at a piece of cheese which it knows is a trap.

Harold Trout declined with the excuse that spicy food gave him indigestion.

Meg gobbled hers down and could happily have had another. ‘So, what do you think so far, Hari?’ she asked.

Ever jolly, he said, ‘Well, you see, I really don’t know if I should be on this jury at all. I am just not a person who can easily sit in judgement of my fellow human beings.’

‘But that’s why you are,’ said Trout, sourly and pedantically. ‘That is precisely what doing jury service is.’

Singh nodded. ‘Oh yes, Harold, you are absolutely quite right to make this point. But you see I am having this problem because of my beliefs.’

‘You’re a Buddhist, you told us, is that correct?’ Trout said the word ‘Buddhist’ with a faint hint of distaste – not overtly disapproving, but making clear his dyed-in-the-wool mistrust of anything alien to his own culture and belief system.

‘Indeed I am!’ Singh replied with pride.

‘So, forgive my ignorance,’ Trout said. ‘What does being a Buddhist have to do with deciding whether the defendant is guilty or innocent? Surely the law is the law, and right and wrong are the same, regardless of anyone’s beliefs?’

Singh nodded, still smiling, and Meg watched, loving the way he stood up to the dull old fart.

‘Well, sir, you are quite right. But what you need to understand is that the Buddha teaches kindness and understanding.’

Trout frowned at him. ‘Are you suggesting that slimy creep – that monster – in the dock who has clearly destroyed countless lives through the drugs he sells – deserves any kindness?’

Singh rose to his own defence. ‘What I am saying, sir, with much respectfulness, is that until today, we have heard only from the prosecution. At this moment the defendant, Mr Gready, is charged with offences relating to drugs, but these do not mean he is a drug dealer. That will only happen if we, the jury, decide that he is guilty. Surely you will respect the opinion of the people called as witnesses, both for the prosecution and the defence?’