‘Reality has many facets.’ The baron did not flinch. ‘Eventually, I hope, there will be a book, thanks to Adila – it will change the way mankind regards the world of spirits. It may change world consciousness for ever. Look at all this.’ He picked up his notebook from the table and rustled through the pages; Jelly glimpsed paragraph after paragraph in his curled, thick-inked writing, the words close yet clear.

‘Can I see?’

The baron, smiling, handed it to her. She read: ‘Progress advances from the lower towards the higher, until perfection is reached, evil being the lowest stage.’

‘Don’t we have enough trouble in this world without worrying about the next?’ she remarked.

‘But the messengers can help us – they can give us guidance in troubled times. People are confused, Jelly. We’re so insecure, we’re so lost.’ Erik, arms behind his back, started to pace up and down; she couldn’t help wishing he’d keep still. ‘Everything we knew, everything we took for granted, it’s all turning into fairy dust. We need the advice of those who know better. Can you imagine what problems we could solve with their wisdom? Read this, received by your sister, letter for letter, word for word: these are teachings for daily life, answering the questions we all want to ask… ’

Jelly ran her gaze over lines and more lines: about the importance of individuality and the ridiculous tendency of human beings to wish to be alike. The spirits, it seemed, had the impression they were watching a world of dummies, growing dumber by the day because of their fear of being different, killing off the very essence of what each of them could otherwise have offered to life and art. It was pompously expressed – as it might well be, coming from Erik’s pen – while the sentiments were worthy of Adila at her most extreme. This was the perfect book-child of its creative parents: one eloquent Swedish ex-MP and one determined, impassioned Hungarian artist who adored being different. Jelly smiled, more to herself than Erik; strange that he and Adila should need prompting from spirits in the beyond to pen something so evidently in keeping with their own beliefs.

‘But Erik, isn’t that human nature, wanting to fit in?’ she ventured. ‘It doesn’t necessarily mean people are “dummies”. Especially now, don’t you have the feeling that people don’t want to… stand out? The way things are?’ She knew too well how it felt to be thought different, therefore a threat – for matters as innocuous as a foreign accent, a darkish complexion, Slavic cheekbones, an artistic profession.

‘That’s the whole point.’ Erik sounded too patient. ‘It shows us that this is nothing but illusion. Fear, doubt and insecurity spawn unnecessary problems, and can stop us from finding solutions to them… Come and join us now?’