‘We don’t know what they mean by spirit,’ I said. ‘It has no physical existence that we can find. And yet they believe in it – many of them – and it is in some way connected with other life forms. They see it as an essential part of life.’

‘That we lack,’ said Phyllis.

‘Yes, and that even a plant somehow shares.’

We were silent for a while.

‘The Hub is where our spirit lives,’ I said.

‘Is that a joke?’ asked Phyllis.

‘I don’t know,’ I replied.

Margaret

Dead and gone. She was old. Living to be 104 is enough, isn’t it? She chose to die. She’d been to heaven. The people she loved most were there. Why not, then? Why wait any longer? Go and join them. If we could be sure, we’d all be off there at the first opportunity. Is that why it was made a sin, perhaps? To stop us all heading off on the early train. You had to earn your ticket. What did Cecilia do to earn hers? Apart from being a pleasant old lady? Enough, perhaps, considering the monsters we’ve had over the years.

Have I earned mine? Ridiculous. When we’re dead we’re dead. Over and done with. I want to believe in heaven. Or something. She made it sound all right. Not churchy. A beautiful place where you go and live with the people you loved. It’s not how we were taught about it at school – you couldn’t just walk into heaven. I used to imagine turning up and they’d say, ‘We told you so.’ And wouldn’t let me in. Why not? For not believing.

I’ll have to hope he’s in a good mood – St Peter, with his giant keys. ‘Oh come on in then,’ he’ll say, ‘Since you’re here.’ Cecilia did just walk in, she said. I’ll find out soon enough.

Here. Now. What shall I do? I want to do more than this. I’m wasting this new lease of life. Waste is a sin, I know that. In my eyes. Come on, Margaret. Get up and do something.

The door opens and Winifred and one of the others – Phyllis? – come in. They never come in twos usually.

‘This is an unexpected pleasure. What brings you here this fine morning?’

‘We need your help,’ says Winifred.

‘My help? How can I possibly help two such capable – individuals?’

They both say nothing. I’ve never seen this either. They appear to be at a loss. I feel a flutter of alarm.

‘I can’t help if you don’t speak,’ I say.

‘I’m sorry,’ says Winifred. ‘We were hearing from the Hub.’

‘Oh, that. The Hub. What’s it saying?’

‘We’re here because we – the Hub is all of us – are confused.’