‘We were only trying to make sure she was safe,’ Peggy said. She was thinking about toast, and whether it was better to have toast or cereal for breakfast. About which was most likely to keep them sober. Neither of them believed in god, so everything felt like a complex superstition or ritual. They were trying to placate something they didn’t understand. That was what they thought this was about. That if they just did the right things, then some complex form of karma, some cosmic equation, would right itself in their direction. If they had cereal, Tyra wouldn’t call the police and they’d be able to carry on as they were. And, perhaps in their better part, if they ate the right thing for breakfast then Heidi would be safe.

‘Is she drinking?’ Greta asked. It was probably the worst thing you could say about someone and none of them had said it until now. They were all thinking it, wondering it. Sometimes when they thought it, they were wondering what it meant to them – if it made more room in the cosmic equation for them to stay sober or whether it was catching. If Heidi drank, would they all drink? Like a cold. But now Greta was asking it. It was because she hadn’t been paying attention. She wasn’t thinking. She was thinking about breakfast, too – cereal or toast. But then it would be bread for breakfast and lunch, which was fine with her, but was that addictive? Could they get addicted to bread?

Dell shook her head. ‘I haven’t seen her.’ They both knew what it meant. Dell hadn’t seen her at meetings – neither had Peggy or Greta. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, because every time they were at a meeting there were three other meetings on. But also, it meant she hadn’t seen her – looked her in the eye.