‘No. Listen to me.’ Piotr was standing despite himself, the swing rocking back and forth from the change in weight. ‘Look at me. Kaz?’ Piotr knelt down on the grass – if Kaz wouldn’t raise his eyes to him then he would have to lower his body to reach them – and clasped the seat to stop it from swinging. ‘You did nothing wrong, you hear me?’ Kaz turned away, leaned against the arm of the bench. ‘You did nothing wrong.’ With a silent exhale of breath Kaz started to shake, and Piotr stayed exactly where he was.

FullLife arranged for one of the lab assistants to show a tour group around the facility every week. It was no secret – you signed up at the reception desk, were put on the three-month waiting list, and eventually received a letter inviting you at a specified time. Anyone was allowed – they were proud of their public engagement. Avigail joined the fringes of the group outside the glass doors, catching a glimpse of her reflection amid the sea of soothing greens and blues. She was wearing one of her handmade dresses, created from folds of tie-dyed fabric in purples and reds, and a long, looped necklace of shells that Eva had collected on the beach that summer. Avigail had learned long ago she was not someone who could hide in a crowd – her bright red hair saw to that. She also knew the tie-dye made her non-threatening, and the shells made her look naive.

They’d sent a boy to conduct the tour, he couldn’t have been more than twenty, and he reddened slightly every time he spoke, the blush spreading up from his chest and flushing his neck rather than his cheeks. He pointed out the lift that was used by the general public, and then guided them towards the one for staff only. Having pressed the call button once, the wait seemed to make him anxious and he pressed the button again, a rapid tap-tap-tap, before adjusting his shirt. When the lift arrived he stood back and gestured for the group to enter first, and so Avigail did the same. They were the last two in, standing side by side almost pressed back into the crowd as they waited for the doors to shut. The insides of the doors were reflective, like the outside of the building, and as they closed Avigail saw the sudden movement of his eyes that told her he’d been looking at her, and did not want to be caught.

She leaned her head closer to him, her eyes fixed on her own reflection in the lift doors.

‘I’m Avigail,’ she whispered, keeping her voice below the murmur of anticipation coming from the rest of the tour group.

His eyes flicked back to her.

‘I’m, er …’ He swallowed. ‘I’m, I’m James.’