He started laughing, but stopped as soon as he heard how hollow it sounded.

‘We need to tell everyone the risks,’ he said. ‘We can’t keep on—’

‘The mass concern wouldn’t help anyone,’ the director said. ‘We need calm, and time to resolve the problem.’

‘And money,’ he said. ‘You need people to keep paying, don’t you?’

‘Well, yes. You know what it costs, your equipment—’

‘I’m going to the press.’

‘We’d prefer it if you didn’t, James,’ she said. ‘Think of the pain you could cause the parents. And the worry for everyone …’

He shook his head.

‘What about your research? You don’t want to throw that away, after all your years of work—’

‘Don’t,’ he said, standing up.

‘We need you, James.’

‘I resign.’

‘But there’s no reason for—’

‘Please, James, we can—’

But James Quentin was at the door, where he turned the handle, stepped outside, pulled the door closed behind him, and took the thirty flights of stairs down to the exit. It wasn’t until he was outside the building that he realised he’d forgotten to get any evidence for Eva. But what other evidence could he get, anyway? He had all his reports stored at home. It would be perfectly clear that he’d known, that they had all known the significance of what was happening. That it was serious enough for an entire research group to be devoted to finding a solution. That no one had been warned. Besides, there was something else that he had to do, and it seemed at once so futile and so desperately urgent that he broke into a run and didn’t stop until he found himself standing on a platform waiting for a train to arrive.

Piotr thought about their journey through Siberia often. They’d been together for over a year by then but she was still keeping him at arm’s length. He’d stopped researching Avigail’s family – that’s why he took the assignment in Russia, to get a new angle. He’d heard that used pouches were being passed on illegally in poorer communities. Not properly maintained. Births performed prematurely, while other babies were left in the pouch too long, unable to grow in the confined space. In some cases they didn’t even have the correct nutrient bags, or they couldn’t afford them. That was why Eva had wanted to come.

She’d been outraged when she saw them, the starving babies, pouch-born but barely able to cry. ‘Do you see what it’s doing?’ she’d said, her voice shaking, though whether it was through anger or supressed tears he couldn’t tell. ‘Do you see what the pouch enables? Why we have to stop it?’