It felt uncaring to cut off her reminiscences, and whisk her onto interview questions, so I listened for a few moments while she talked, mentally noting anything that might be relevant to the investigation.

‘There are hardly any Jewish families left in Brick Lane now. The Blums, from the bagel shop, were the last to move out. Golders Green, Józef said.’

Aware that Rosa could tire quickly, I directed her attention to the arson. ‘Thinking back to the last few days, have you noticed anything suspicious or unusual? People you didn’t recognise?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Anyone acting suspiciously or anything out of the ordinary?’

‘No. But to be honest, I’m so busy in the shop, the days shoot by and I don’t notice much. Just boxes of stock and dust.’

‘What about arguments? Anyone been rowing recently? Neighbours had fallouts?’

She paused to think back. ‘Sorry. I’m not much help, am I?’

‘Did you recognise anyone in the street or at the flash mob?’ Having lived in the area for so long, if anyone would recognise locals, it was Rosa.

‘No.’

‘The ward sister said you’ve mentioned black masks. Can you tell me about these?’

‘They all had them. Black bandana things. Tied round their neck, and when they joined the dancing, they pulled them up over their nose to just beneath their eyes.’ She shuddered. ‘They looked really sinister.’

‘How well do you know Simas and Indra?’

‘Only to say hello to. I try to be neighbourly.’ Rosa was pensive, nodding gently, as though she was sifting through her experiences and opinions. ‘Actually, now you mention it, they had rows. I’d often hear one of them shouting and slamming the front door.’ She seemed distressed by the memory. ‘But it’s not my business and you can’t get involved in other people’s lives.’ A wistful look spread over her features. ‘I can’t believe the husband was in the . . . ’ Her voice croaked and broke off.

‘Sorry to upset you. Can we call anyone for you? Get someone to help with the shop?’ Uniform had told us that Tomasz and Agnieszka had come to the hospital.

She shook her head, her fingers under her nose as if she was holding back a floodgate.

‘Tomasz arrived at the shop earlier. He was very worried about you. Would you consider staying with him until you’re back on your feet again?’

‘He’s very kind. Always has been. I’m very lucky with both my children. But Bethnal Green’s too far away.’ She sighed. ‘And I don’t want to put anyone out. My children have their own lives.’

‘If your son wants to help, why not let him?’ I voiced the question gently, realising that it was a sensitive subject.

Rosa shook her head. Determined. ‘He’s extremely busy . . . ’