Kiss kiss, twice on the cheek. The glasses came off, and then a perfectly made-up face gleamed back at me. How she had changed. How she had changed from the sweaty, drenched, despairing person on the street, dodging tear gas and police batons, clad in cheap jeans and faded sneakers. How we had both changed.

So, how are you? Feeling better? You look better! Tell me all.

And where was I supposed to start? The pills, the vodka, the bags of cocaine, the club, Shah, the hospital, Inspector Awang? Omar?

I shrugged. I don’t know where to start, Sumi, it’s been, just… hard. You know, just trying to live every day without going crazy…

She patted my hand, waved to a waiter, pointed to my latte and said, Okay… I know this might be hard for you…Oh well, I’ll just come out and say it. She took a breath and continued. We have decided to try and adopt. I can’t have a baby, that’s clear and the IVF has made me so fat. Look at me! I’m not even menopausal yet, these bloody hormones, they just make you so fat! So, yes, we’re going to adopt!

I gulped my café latte and sputtered.

Adopt? My hands started shaking and I felt a cold shiver on my neck. How?

Sumi continued, unperturbed. Well, there are ways, you know. I know a couple of people who’ve recently just adopted baby girls, it’s all legit of course, paperwork and all, you pay for quick service but yes… we’ve been talking about it and so, what do you think? Her café latte appeared and she took a cultured sip.

I said quietly, my eyes downcast. Good luck, I hope you find a child who… deserves a home like yours.

It was as if she didn’t hear me. And then she told me about their recent holiday in Barcelona, where they ate non-stop oh my god, Iberico ham, the tapas! So fresh, ahh the wine, the shopping, the leather shoes, the hand stitching! Fairman went crazy, this villa, oh my god the view of the vineyards, olive oil from the trees! The scent of lemons in the morning… A run-down of what they saw and a slew of haphazardly-linked vignettes about her life since being Mrs Fairman. And such. Then it was onto the baby. The monologue continued. I wanted to leave, just run out the door, but I forced myself to stay, to listen to her drone on and on. I was feeling unhinged, the conversation drifting precariously into territory I really did not want to venture into.