She smiled, trying to signal that there was no need to be because the world had moved on, and her brother was no longer at the forefront of her mind. She wasn’t grieving at this moment. It was some way off, because they had come such a great distance. There was another question, though, and she had experienced it so many times. Would he ask it? How close did this man want to come? As a clergyman he wouldn’t back off. Some people were simply silenced when she told them her younger brother was dead: she could feel their fear. Others went out of their way to insist that death was no obstacle in a conversation, and that her brother should be talked about as if he were alive – that was their way of honouring him, and honouring her. She had had such encounters so many times, and she never got it quite right. To not mention her brother, or his death, seemed like a betrayal. To reveal the truth forced people to the next question: ‘How did he die?’

‘He was killed,’ she said, and Paul looked into her eyes.

She thought, He asked about him – and this is his business. He’s a vicar, and deals with loss every week. I’ve put him on duty again, poor man – just as he was looking forward to a chat about guitar lessons and families – a mild flirtation, even – and he finds himself sitting with the blasted bereaved. And he doesn’t know what I need, if I need anything. He doesn’t know if he can provide it, but he won’t back away. It’s his job not to back away.

‘How?’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry, and if you don’t want to tell me, please… I don’t want to intrude.’

He glanced at the women opposite, who were still talking over each other. There was a curious intimacy, and for a moment Ayesha wondered if she wanted to confess her many sins.

‘I don’t want to ignore what you just said, though,’ said Paul. ‘How was he killed?’

‘He was in a road accident…’

Why was she about to cry? The tears came out of nowhere: from a sudden cloud.

They pricked into her eyes, as if the weather had changed – as if the train had taken her into a different band of pressure, which produced warm rain.