Gwen liked Chiyo’s descriptions because Chiyo wasn’t afraid to say anything in front of the company. Well, Gwen could talk comfortably to Rico, couldn’t she? But that was different. Rico was a private audience, his tiny bird earholes covered protectively by auricular feathers. Letting in human sounds, the ones he wanted to hear. Was he capable of selective hearing? Probably not. Someone might know the answer to that.

“Too much tapping at keyboards,” said Hazzley. “Think of the steady diet of lacklustre communications, day in, day out. Multiply that by months, years. It’s unfortunate the way figures of authority get to utter decrees that alter people’s lives. Actually, not everyone behind a counter has been there for years. One day my number was called by a young woman in her twenties who had painted her lips so purple, I couldn’t take my eyes off her mouth the entire time she was speaking. I stared and stared, hardly heard what she was saying. She was used to drawing attention, and my staring didn’t bother her one bit.”

Tom chipped in. “It’s a wonder, with all the paperwork we’re required to submit—death certificates, copies of wills, affidavits, proofs—it’s a wonder we don’t have to bring in photographs of our late relatives in their caskets.”

“I remember something,” Hazzley said. “When I was a child in England, during the war and after, my mum used to rhyme off a little chant whenever a hearse or an ambulance passed us by in the street: ‘Hold your collar, touch your toes. Don’t want to be in one of those.’ And we did just that. We stood still and held our collars, or whatever was at our neckline. After the hearse went by, I don’t think we touched our toes, but I recall seeing others around us holding their collars, too. It’s queer, really. An old custom that goes back to the time of the plague, I expect. I don’t know what made me think of this.”

The others instinctively reached for their collars, as if experimenting.

“Anyway, Tom,” Hazzley continued, “you’re right about the paperwork. Unfortunately, it goes on for a couple of years. I had to keep supplying extra copies of the death certificate and the will. You might also be asked for notarized copies. Sometimes it seems there will be no end to demands for proof of death, joint ownership, inheritance. I am finally free of the paperwork to do with Lew’s death—I hope—but that was a long, difficult period.” She thought of Lew’s ashes in the ceramic urn behind the door in the now-empty dining room. Maybe her daughter would deal with them. She added, softly, “Not to mention the number of times I sat in the car and cried after one of those dispiriting encounters with an official.”

“Exactly,” said Chiyo. “That’s what I mean. When we’re vulnerable, we can easily be undone.”

“Tears can be close to the surface, for sure,” Gwen offered quietly. “The slightest word from someone else—even a stranger, even on an unrelated topic—can trigger a completely unexpected reaction.” Woe came upon the people, she said to herself. And remembered how hard she’d cried in the chair next to Rico’s cage.