‘Do you want to check what’s inside?’ said Ayesha.

‘Yes. No! Thank you.’

She was laughing, too.

‘Well then, what do you want to drink?’

‘Nothing, thank you.’

‘Have something with me. Just… relax for a moment. Do you want tea or coffee?’

‘Just… tea, please. Thank you.’

‘Herbal? Mint?’

‘Honestly, no. Just… everyday tea. Breakfast tea.’

Ayesha had found a corner table, and her brother’s guitar was propped against the wall. Maria sat down, the rucksack beside her – and she wiped her eyes. She couldn’t stop smiling, for the bag looked and weighed the same. She held it to her chest and unzipped it. She removed the passport first, and then she took out the wallet: there were all her cards and train tickets, and there were the banknotes. Everything was safe again: order had been restored, and the temporary separation had already started to seem less important. Her bag had had an adventure of its own, but now it was back where it belonged. Incredibly, their journey together could continue, and her family need never know. When Ayesha returned, she was carrying a white china cup, and the string of the teabag trailed over its edge.

‘You know you asked me something,’ she said, setting it down. ‘You asked me if the train we were on went to Burnley.’

‘Which train?’ said Maria.

‘The one we were on together, at Carlisle. You sat down, and asked me if the train went to Burnley. Well… I didn’t realise it, but you were on the right train. You didn’t need to get off.’

‘It was the right train?’

‘Yes. You had to come here, didn’t you? So as to change at Preston.’

‘Yes. So…’

Maria thought hard.

‘Why did I get off?’

‘Because I told you to. By mistake.’

Maria digested this, and smiled even more broadly.

‘I needed to come here,’ she said. ‘And here I am.’

‘That’s right. But that train – the one you were on – would have got you here faster. I just didn’t think quickly enough, and suddenly I opened my big mouth, and—’

‘I was getting down, running.’

‘You were getting down, and it was my fault. All of this is my fault, so the least I can do is buy you a cup of tea. Is there anything else you want?’

‘No. Thank you.’

Maria started to laugh.

‘I am very lucky,’ she said. ‘Everything is okay, because of you. Look.’

She opened the bag again and removed her passport.

‘My life,’ she said. ‘My visa and my work permit. I am so, so lucky – thank you.’

‘You must stop thanking me. If I hadn’t—’

‘You’re a very kind person. And I make you late! Where are you going?’

‘I’m nearly home. I’m not late at all.’

‘You live here?’

‘Close by. My parents do, anyway. I get a bus from here.’

‘You waited for me.’