‘Can we go somewhere else?’ No point in being in A&E and the waiting room feels oppressive.

‘If you like,’ the policewoman says. ‘How’s about a cup of tea at the caff?’

The three of them walk through the hospital. More corridors, more noise and confusing signs. The cafeteria sits near the entrance. A pod-shaped room, lit with white, fluorescent tubes. A few exhausted-looking people sitting at tables. Food service has not yet opened for the day but a bank of vending machines hums on a far wall. Sondra reaches out and squeezes Nevis’s hand, trying to be comforting, but Nevis doesn’t like to be touched. Not by strangers. Not by anyone except Satnam.

They take a table and Sondra volunteers to go and get coffee from the vending machine. The policewoman wastes no time in small talk. She wants to know how Satnam seemed last night.

‘I already told the other officer.’

‘Just once more if you wouldn’t mind.’ There’s a beep from the policewoman’s phone. She holds up a finger and is soon engrossed in conversation.

‘Is everything all right?’ Sondra says, returning with the coffee.

Well no, obviously.

The two women sit in awkward silence for a few moments, before Sondra pipes up with, ‘Nevis is a nice name. As in the island?’

‘As in the mountain.’

As the policewoman finishes up her call, Sondra excuses herself to wait out the conversation at another table.

‘Sorry about that. So, you were saying, does Satnam usually drink and take drugs?’

‘That’s not what I was saying.’

The policewoman stiffens, checks her pad, and pastes on a professional smile. ‘We’re not looking to get either you or your friend into any trouble. We’re just trying to get to the truth.’

The truth. Well, yes, obviously, not least because Nevis is very bad at lying.

‘She drinks wine sometimes.’ Nevis wonders if she should mention the bottle of vodka in Satnam’s bedroom and decides not to.

‘I see.’ The policewoman writes something down. ‘What about drugs? Something for those essay deadlines? A little smoke to relax?’

‘Nothing that I know of.’

‘The initial toxicology report apparently suggests Ritalin. Is that something you’ve ever seen Satnam using before?’

‘No.’

‘And can you tell me exactly what happened last night?’

‘No.’

The policewoman cocks her head and grimaces. ‘I think you told my colleague that you ate chips together then Satnam went to bed and you went back to the campus library. Is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘Sooo… you can tell me.’ There’s a familiar look on the woman’s face that Nevis has learned to read as frustration.

‘I only know what happened to me.’

‘Yes, I see. Well, OK then, so did Satnam seem her usual self… to you? Did she say anything out of the ordinary, anything that seemed odd, again, to you?’