“Yeah,” I say. My breathing has quickened slightly. I realize that I’ve never been in this position before, confronted with the smell of human blood while hungry. During the times when I’d starved myself as a teenager, I had stayed home from school; the only smell in the air was Mum’s meals, and then her body, which smelled half dead and half animal. “I guess.”

“You want to come up to my studio for a bit and hang out?” Ben asks.

I look at the cubbyhole, then back at Ben. “Yeah, all right,” I say. “I’ve got to,” I point at my phone, “do a thing, though. Some lost mail. Have you got a charger?”

“Yeah, yeah, in the studio,” Ben says.

As we’re walking down the corridor toward the lift at the end, I ask Ben whether he’s hurt himself. “Oh, yeah . . .” he says. His cheeks go red. “Clipped by a car; fell off, kind of like—” He moves his hand, imitating the passage of his body through air, and then makes it fall with a slap on top of his other hand.

“Shit,” I say.

I’m standing a little behind him when we get in the lift. The bike just fits in. Ben selects C on the panel of buttons. He winces as he leans forward. The lift starts going up. There’s mud on his leg, his hip, and one of his arms. I can see some grazes on the side of his hand where it pokes out of his sleeve. “Did they stop?” I ask.

“No, they just sped off.”

“Wow,” I say. “People.” I shake my head. I lick my lips. The lift doors open.

“Yeah, so, I’m going to have to—” He holds up a Boots bag. The bag is translucent. Inside it are some packs of plasters and dressings.

“Sure,” I say.

We’re silent for a bit, as we walk. I’m not sure where the awkwardness is coming from, me or him. I’ve often found that people get quiet after sharing personal things with me; maybe it’s because I don’t react in the way they want a person to react, or give them enough sympathy or advice. It also feels kind of strange, walking behind Ben, knowing that I could, if I wanted to, keep his mum alive indefinitely, though only partially; that, if he wanted, I could make it so that he didn’t ever within his lifetime have to think about losing his mum at all.

I feel quite calm as we step into Ben’s studio.