And this had happened to Mel, the most vital person any of us knew. It made me afraid of our place all over again and I shifted my weight on my hard chair, trying to square up to it, refusing to fear the city where I had spent my life. We belong here. Mel, Jack, Lola, Audrey. Paul and me, Jasper and Caz and Graham. I ran through the names, drawing the love and affection around us like a good spell.

‘I don’t know what I’ll do if she dies,’ Jasper said suddenly. It was a simple statement of the truth. He didn’t know and nor did I.

I took his hand again and massaged it between mine. ‘She isn’t going to die.’ I spoke firmly, refusing to admit anything else even though the opposite possibility hammered in all the chambers of my mind.

Jasper stood up and walked down the corridor. I could hear him asking a question of someone out of sight and the brief monosyllables of a reply. When he came back he shook his head and my heart almost stopped. ‘No news yet.’

I breathed again.

A young Indian couple came in. They nodded patiently at us and took the two seats furthest away. The young woman was beautiful, with delicate features, but there were tears running down her face. Her husband put his arm round her shoulders while she cried, silently, so as not to draw attention to herself. Like us, they were waiting for news. I wondered if it was of a parent or a child.

After a few more minutes I looked up to see Lois Archer. She was wearing a silky two-piece with a cashmere wrap and a little beaded handbag over her arm. Her huge frightened eyes with mascaraed lashes took in the four of us and the bleak room. ‘Sadie? What’s going to happen now? I was playing bridge. Playing bridge with the girls, you know. I couldn’t get a taxi …’

I had met Lois a handful of times, Jasper just once. We both stood up and now it was Jasper’s turn to guide her to a chair. ‘You’re here now, that’s all that matters. There’s nothing new to report. And all we can do is wait,’ I told her.

In a low voice Jasper repeated what he knew. Lois was trembling but she held her head up. The brown-spotted backs of her hands were gnarled with veins. The huge diamond on her wedding finger reflected the overhead neon strips in chips of rainbow light. I noticed small details: there was a dark scuff on the heel of her pale suede shoe and a tiny catch in the ankle of her sheer stocking. She had been in an unaccustomed hurry.

To bring all my concentration to bear on this helped to keep the other thoughts at bay.