They went to the vast supermarket and drifted up and down the aisles, eating sandwiches. They opened all the windows on the way home.

‘I bet the air con is really good,’ said Dan, trying to make her smile.

The seats were hot under their legs. Bea held herself suspended until it was cool enough to sit. He fanned her legs with one hand, with the other on the wheel, and they giggled. It was funny how the mind took breaks where it could. Pulling up in front of the hotel, the atmosphere descended; it felt as though they had been away on holiday.

‘Here we are again,’ said Dan.

He poured them both big glasses of wine and Griff called from the car again.

‘Progress,’ she said. ‘Arun’s found us a lawyer. Philip Roche. The “best French lawyer in London”, according to Arun. Has an office in Paris, too.’

Griff and Liv arrived back at Holford Road later that afternoon, and the calls stopped.

Bea tidied the reception desk, at a loss.

‘So that’s good though, right?’ said Dan. ‘You don’t have to do everything.’

‘Maybe I should speak to this lawyer. This Philip Roche,’ she said. ‘Should I tell him who I’ve been dealing with?’

‘If you want. I don’t think you need to.’

‘No, you’re right,’ she said, ‘it’s good. The hospital might actually speak to him, when he calls.’ She straightened the things on the desk. ‘There are things we need to know. We have no idea what Alex was doing.’

‘Griff said something about wine. I don’t know.’

‘Did he mention it to you?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Bea –’

‘Do you think he was drunk? He must have been. When will they tell us all this stuff?’

‘Bea –’

She sat down. ‘Sorry,’ she said.

‘Don’t be sorry.’

He picked up the slim file Griff had left on the desk. It had a white sticker on it. Orderbrecht.

‘I guess I should look at this,’ he said. ‘What will you do?’

Bea opened the guestbook. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I can’t find Alex’s birth certificate. He must have had it here.’

He put down the file, and knelt at her feet. He took her hands. ‘Drink up,’ he said. He handed her glass to her. ‘Have mine, too. Come up with me?’

‘I will later. You go.’

When he went upstairs she opened the guestbook and read the list of different coloured names.

Jackie and Helen Brown, from Durban. Fantastic service! Mr and Mrs Avening, from London, had left a brief but friendly Thanks v. much. Or rather, they hadn’t, Alex had. Lovely stay. Thanks very much.