‘I don’t know what he was thinking of,’ she said. ‘God, that is. What happened was that Kristin was cycling with a friend, down a hill. Friday afternoon. And the lights were a bit confusing – we’re not quite sure what he thought, and his friend couldn’t work it out either. Somehow he thought – Kristin, this is – he thought that he had the right of way, so he went onto the junction, but he didn’t. And a lorry… an articulated lorry was coming across and it hit him. He went under the wheels. It wasn’t the driver’s fault: there was nothing he could have done… he was doing twenty-four miles an hour and Kristin simply didn’t see him. He must have checked to the left and not realised there was traffic to the right – I don’t know. Maybe he did see it, but it was too late. They went over it, and over it, but the point was…’

She looked at Paul’s serious, sympathetic face.

‘God didn’t really help us very much, on that occasion.’

‘No.’

‘No.’

She paused.

‘If he’d just moved that lorry back,’ she said. ‘Fifteen metres further back, and that would have been enough. If he’d whispered in Kristin’s ear, “Stop.” Actually, I say fifteen metres – two metres, because then the bumper would have probably thrown him clear. As it was, God organised the perfect accident, really. A kind of textbook example of how a lorry can crush a child with no hope of that child surviving. He had multiple fractures, internal injuries and he died at the scene, and…’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I know. We were, too. Everyone was, and still is. I have never met anyone who isn’t. There probably are people who’d say, “One less Indian,” but nobody’s ever said that to me, and so… thank you for being sorry. I shouldn’t have told you about him, but I’m afraid you asked, and I loved him.’

‘I’m glad you have. It’s important that you have.’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘It’s important he’s acknowledged,’ said Paul. ‘He lives on, in your—’

‘No,’ said Ayesha. ‘No, he doesn’t. Don’t say that.’

‘What?’

She swallowed.

‘What you were about to say – what you said. You’ve misunderstood, I think. He… he doesn’t live on at all, because he’s dead, Paul. He… I’ll give you an example.’

She swallowed again, amazed at the grief, and furious with the single tear that was halfway down her cheek. She was amazed at her own resolution, too.