Preparations

"Here you are," he says, handing her a chipped mug. "Careful — piping hot. And these — something to dunk."

"Thank you," she says. "Thank you very much."

The biscuits are dry, stick to the roof of her mouth, and the tea is the colour of burnt caramel; too strong for her liking. She hasn’t slept for days.

"Well, here we are." He adjusts his collar. "Now we’re fed and watered, shall we begin? No rush, of course."

"Yes please. Let’s start."

"First, if I may, let me just say again how very sorry I am."

‘Thank you,’ she says.