‘My God, I might wish I had your innocence, your illusions. But when I look down at this so-called Palace of Westminster,’ he hissed, ‘all I want is to see it explode into the air and spew out flames. And for those inside to fry and their souls to rot.’

She looked down and away from him, surprise turning to shock and, then, mystification. In the seconds he spoke those words, a potential and fearful truth flared. The man she had seen as one person was, stage by stage, act by act, revealing himself as quite another. ‘I can’t believe you mean that, Kareem.’

His shoulders slumped, the fire diminished. ‘Yes,’ he said dully. ‘I mean it. I mean it when I say it.’

‘If it’s just words, don’t speak them.’

‘Every revolution begins with “just words”.’

Their pod was now past the Wheel’s zenith and, as it crept back towards ground, they stared out in a subdued, uncomfortable silence, emerging into the dampness of a gathering drizzle. She wanted to get away. More than want, it was desperation. To hasten her escape, she tried to display a gratitude she did not feel. ‘It was great, thank you, I really appreciate you getting the tickets. But I said I’d meet someone for tea.’

‘Oh, who is that?’

She frowned, shook her head at him and, as the pod came to a rest, turned to go. Did he seem momentarily ashamed? Was he capable of feeling shame?

‘I would very much like to see you again so that we may discuss any issues that have arisen between us.’

‘Maybe.’ She spoke into the distance.

‘I will wait in the car in the usual place on Thursday.’

‘Maybe,’ she repeated.

She turned on her heel and headed towards Westminster Bridge. As she sped up, she glanced back to check he wasn’t following, her heart thumping so hard that it was painful. She looked up to the top of the Wheel – thank God she hadn’t been alone with him in that pod.

The date was Monday 10 September 2001.

‘Can you remember where you were on 9/11?’ she asked Patrick.

‘Of course. Sitting in the law library. One or two people started leaving. You could detect an atmosphere. Within minutes we were all out watching the TV in the bar next door.’

‘Impossible to forget, yes?’

‘Totally. And you?’ he asked.

‘It was one of my work experience days at the solicitors’ – I didn’t know then which branch of law I wanted to do. It was the end of the lunch break. Like you, we all crowded round. In our case it was in reception. It was the only place with a telly.’