He leans back on his chair with a slight groan. “I’m rubbish at this sort of thing. I’ve never been comfortable speaking in front of crowds. Apparently loads of people are coming tomorrow. So many people knew Nani from the shop. I still don’t know how I’m going to stand in front of them and say something that doesn’t sound like a load of bollocks.”

“Once your up there, things will start rolling, and it’ll be over before you know it. You’re going to do great. I know it.”

“The thought of it makes me a bit ill, actually.” He rubs soothing circles over his stomach. “You know me, love. I’d rather just keep my head down and keep to myself.”

“Can I help at all?”

“No, it’s all right. It’s just taking a lot longer than I thought it would, is all.” He scratches the stubble on his chin. “Anyway, how about you? What have you been up to?”

“I made dinner,” she says. “Not much else.” She hesitates. “I’m feeling a little stiff from the flight, actually. Do you feel like stretching your legs? The writing might come easier if you take a little break.” Then she can tell him what happened, out in the open air, where it is safe.

“Sorry, love, but if I don’t push through, I’ll just give up.”

“You’re right,” she says, crestfallen beneath her thin smile. “The speech is important. Of course, you should finish it.”

“Hopefully it won’t take much longer. Maybe we can go for a stroll after dinner, yeah?”

She gives him a faint parting smile, then leaves.

Back in the kitchen, she walks through a fine, rippling cloud of incense. Closing her eyes for a moment, she inhales the comforting aroma of smoky rose. As she exhales, she wonders what to do with herself.

She considers calling her parents, but they will be asleep by now because of the time difference. She craves a cigarette, but doesn’t know where the nearest corner store is, nor does she trust her navigational skills in the warren roads of Nirav’s old neighbourhood. She might have gotten some fresh air in the garden, if it weren’t for the relentless drizzle, and patio chairs covered in unwelcoming puddles. She scolds herself for not packing one of her library books.

In the living room, she searches for something to read but only finds a copy of The Sun and a stack of Hello! magazines. Flopping on the couch, she reaches for the remote, and starts clicking.