The alley they were standing in was dark, shaded by the tall external back walls of the birthing centre on either side – a thin expanse of land that was too narrow to be used for anything. It was like a vertical gutter running between the lift shafts that propelled people between the pristine floors of a building that was beautiful from every other angle than this. Even here it was clean, no litter, no rain damage allowed to linger on the brickwork. Looking up there was nothing to see but sky. The clear, booming blue of it suddenly seemed like a sick joke.

‘Let’s go,’ she said.

He turned, straightened up again, but didn’t speak. His eyes were bloodshot.

‘We’ll get you a drink,’ she said. ‘Some food. And then you can tell me what’s going on.’

He nodded.

He looked helpless. Lost. In a movement that surprised her more than it seemed to surprise him, she took his arm in hers and led him away from the birthing centre. Turning into the maze of backstreets she followed the route that seemed quietest until they stumbled across a grocer’s that was serving coffee. Two plastic metal-effect tables were outside, and empty. They sat down. It was not the kind of place that offered table service, but before Eva could ask what he wanted he started talking, as if the words couldn’t be stopped.

‘I don’t understand how they could have known,’ he was saying. ‘I’m not always here on a Saturday, but I suppose … usually, they must have thought, but even I didn’t know I’d be here. I should have been out, meeting you, I was about to leave when it arrived, but there were a few of us in the lab today so I suppose someone … Why didn’t they tell me they were going to deliver it? If I’d known, if I’d been more prepared—’

‘Slow down,’ she said. ‘Start from the beginning. Something went wrong yesterday?’

‘A baby died.’

‘Rosie Bhattacharyya’s child?’

He nodded again, his eyes meeting hers in a way that seemed imploring, although what it was he wanted her to do she had no idea.

‘And that’s never happened before,’ she said.