I didn’t like seeing her so downhearted. What can you say to somebody whose unhappiness seems to reach all the way into their marrow? ‘People can surprise you,’ I said, hoping it didn’t sound too pathetic. ‘People do care about each other, I think. They just get caught up in their own silly stuff. I didn’t know about some of the things that were done to people in France during the war. Then I met somebody who told me about them, and after that I cared a lot. I didn’t know about Guatemala. Now I know about it, I hope that whoever’s doing the bad things will stop doing them.’

‘You are very kind,’ she said, and she didn’t sound like she was making fun.

‘I just wish I could do something,’ I said, meaning it.

‘Your government,’ she said, a little more animatedly. ‘Tell your government the truth about what their allies do. Make them see that to look the other way is to collaborate.’

I looked up at John. He couldn’t meet my eye. ‘Me?’ I asked. ‘Who would I say that to? Why would anybody listen to me?’

‘She doesn’t vote,’ grunted John. He’d lit another cigarette but seemed to be struggling to inhale.

‘We yearn for democracy,’ said Sera, turning to face me. ‘That is all that we seek. The promises we were made, the purpose of the fight, it is all in the name of democracy – for the right to choose our rulers. That is the purpose of our struggle.’

I felt a bit picked on. I didn’t vote because I felt it was none of my business. Cordelia always gave me a right ear-bashing for it and told me I was letting down all the women who’d fought for my rights, but I’d always get in a tizzy with her and say that I’d rather not bother than get it wrong.

‘They’re moving,’ said John, suddenly. ‘Listen, footsteps …’