‘If we don’t do normal things, it makes it worse,’ he said.

‘It can’t be worse,’ said Liv flatly.

‘Do you think it’s easy for me?’ Griff snapped.

‘May I say something?’ asked Arun, his clean tenor rolling out to reach them, at the perfect pitch. ‘If I may?’ he smiled.

Arun had lived in England nearly all his life, his Indian origins were barely detectible in his public-school speech, except for the extreme accuracy of his locution, and a certain, particular kindliness.

‘I can’t imagine what you’re going through,’ he said, and paused. ‘Truly. I can’t. My oldest friends. And it would be presumptuous of me to claim I could possibly know how hard this must be. But, if you’ll permit me, I would like to say one thing.’

Griff and Liv were captivated, both gazing on him as though he were bringing them a present.

‘Despite these difficulties,’ he said, ‘or perhaps even, if I may, because of them, I am honoured you have asked me here. Thank you. And I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to help you. I cannot apologise enough, if I speak out of turn. And it may seem very strange to raise a glass in these circumstances. But I do. I raise my glass to you all.’ He raised his water glass and held it out to Liv, first, and then to Griff. ‘As your friend, thank you.’

Liv picked up her glass, her bony wrist flexing. Griff raised his, and so did Dan. Everyone drank. They murmured, a kind of toast. Bea, who had always thought Arun did everything for money, found herself picking up her glass along with them. His kindness shamed her.

‘You should be bloody grateful, Arun,’ barked Griff, ‘on the per diem I’m paying you.’

He, Arun and Liv laughed hugely, full of easy emotion. Bea bowed her head. Roche, the newcomer, smiled along, feeling his way.

‘We were two hours in there,’ said Liv. Her tears were flowing again.

‘We’ll sort them out,’ said Griff. ‘I said I would.’

‘No, we must do everything we can to help them,’ said Liv, suddenly determined. ‘The captain was really nice, I thought, and rather charming. We need to find out who knows somebody. Philip, do you know the commissioner, or somebody like that?’

She was still slurring her words, and drank more wine, growing more vivacious and imperious. She talked on, demanding responses to disconnected ideas, mentioning diplomats she’d met, and politicians. Then she stopped, as suddenly broken as she had been suddenly commanding.

‘Enough,’ she said dead-eyed. She stood up.

‘Yes, up you go,’ said Griff, as meek as a lamb. ‘Arun?’

Arun escorted her from the table. Dan half rose, politely, as she left, and so did Roche. They all said goodnight – except Bea. It shocked Dan that she could be so pitiless.

When she had gone, they ate.