‘That’s a relief.’ I continued to scroll through Dougie’s screenshots. ‘WHO IS THE MYSTERY WOMAN IN THE FIRE? Blimey. I hadn’t expected that from Sky. Who’s told the press there was a woman in the fire? Media Liaison haven’t released the information yet and I didn’t mention it.’

‘Someone must’ve been blabbing.’ Dougie didn’t sound surprised and continued checking his emails.

‘Anything from Suzie?’ She’d be hard pressed to come up with anything worse than the City Eye or The Messenger, but milking national concerns wasn’t Suzie’s style. Her penchant was to go for people, personally, and her favourite target was me.

‘Nothing on their website yet.’

*

Dan was joining me at the hospital. Hopefully, as well as asking Indra some questions, we could persuade Rosa to stay on the ward or go home with her daughter and spend a few days in East Ham.

When I walked in through the entrance doors, I was greeted in the lobby by a solemn-faced Shen.

‘Bad news, Ma’am, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘Indra Ulbiene was ten weeks pregnant and she’s had a miscarriage.’

Shit. The poor woman. ‘So, her husband is dead and it looks like he might have been having an affair. And now she’s lost her baby?’ I kicked at the linoleum. Occasionally, the news we had to convey was good but most of the time it wasn’t. ‘Where’s the silver lining in this situation?’

‘I know, Ma’am.’

‘Is she conscious?’ Questions were circling in my mind. ‘Does she know she’s lost the baby?’

‘Yes, the medical staff have told her. We’ve not said anything to her about her husband yet. I think she knows he’s dead but we were waiting for you. She’s extremely distressed. They’ve got her sedated. She was asleep when I left the ward a few minutes ago.’

‘Thanks, Shen. I’ll speak to Rosa Feldman first then. Give Indra a bit of space. It’s the least we can do to help her.’

*

When I arrived on the ward, colour had returned to Rosa’s cheeks and her facial expression was resolute. She was sipping a mug of tea, and a half-eaten breakfast tray was on the side table.

‘You look better than when I last saw you,’ I said. ‘Thought we were going to lose you. How are you?’

‘Fit as a fiddle and ready to go home.’

I recognised the determination in her voice.

‘Those stock boxes won’t unpack themselves and all the while the shop’s closed, I’m losing customers.’

I wanted to steer Rosa away from the shop so I asked her about the flash mob.

‘When everyone began dancing, it took me back to the tea dances Józef and I used to go to after the war.’ Her eyes glistened as tears formed.