Sylvia smiled, squeezed Evelyne’s hand. ‘Thank you.’

She looked down at her belly. Soon, the baby would be here. A living, breathing little person. She wasn’t ready. She still had her regulars to write and the golden oldies column to do for next week’s paper and this big feature to get in the bag before Diane stepped so competently into her shoes. This wasn’t meant to be happening yet, it wasn’t meant to be happening at all, and she didn’t know how in hell she was going to cope when it did. But she knew she couldn’t pretend any longer.

The time had come. She was going to be a mother.

Sylvia was being wheeled down the corridor in a bed, Evelyne at her side, when they saw her.

‘Anna?’ Evelyne said.

She was lying on a bed in a large ward, one hand on her stomach, her face wet with tears.

‘Please stop,’ Sylvia asked the nurse pushing her. ‘What’s she doing here?’ she said to Evelyne.

‘I don’t know.’ She left Sylvia’s side and went to Anna.

‘She said her name was Brigitte,’ the nurse said, and Sylvia felt her stomach lurch. Brigitte. Anna’s pseudonym, to avoid the authorities knowing who she was. Sylvia realised then, that whatever had happened to bring Anna to the hospital, it wasn’t her intention. Evelyne had told her she planned to have the baby at home in that tiny flat, on her own, despite she and Daniel imploring her not to. But it was true they had no health insurance, no money to pay hospital bills, and Anna was so scared of being found that she’d refused to countenance hospital. So to be here now, Sylvia realised, something serious must have happened – and Anna must be petrified.

‘Yes, her name is Brigitte,’ Sylvia said to the nurse. ‘But her friends call her by her middle name.’

Evelyne walked back over to Sylvia, tension in her face. ‘After we left her flat, she went out to get some groceries and was knocked down by a car – on a pedestrian crossing, for God’s sake.’

Sylvia felt the colour drain from her face. ‘What? Is she okay?’

‘The car wasn’t going fast but she fell – and some passer-by called an ambulance. Apparently she’s okay, but the accident has triggered labour.’

Sylvia looked over at Anna and the younger girl met her eyes, fear evident in her expression. Sylvia smiled, trying to convey her sympathy. She hoped that seeing her here too would bring her some comfort. It suddenly seemed right that they’d be going through this together, on the same day. Ever since they’d met, she’d felt some connection to the girl, despite their vastly different experiences, so perhaps Sylvia was meant to be here today, giving birth in Switzerland. She was almost glad, if it could bring some reassurance to Anna.

‘Does Daniel know?’