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This time she replies: Am I in trouble?
Not from me.
Moments later, her name lights up my screen.
‘Where are you?’ I ask.
‘Nottingham. Nadia just had a call from the police. They want her to identify her brother’s body.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I.’
We arrange to meet at a café in the Lace Market. Florence is still in her motorcycle leathers. She kisses both my cheeks like we’re old friends and her dreadlocks brush against my neck. She takes a seat, one trousered leg crossed casually over the other, her arms stretched out along the armrests.
‘Where did you stay last night?’ I ask.
‘With Nadia.’
‘How is she?’
‘Devastated. She still hasn’t told her parents in Khartoum.’
I order coffee. Florence chooses a herbal concoction that smells like my grandmother’s perfume. We share a chocolate brownie, but she picks out the chocolate chips.
‘Where is home?’ I ask.
‘London. I share a house in Camden with some mates from university.’
I ask her about Migrant Watch and how long she’s worked for the charity.
‘It was set up about five years ago by Simon Buchan.’
‘The philanthropist?’
‘And the brother of Lord Buchan.’
The statement is delivered with a raised eyebrow. The Buchan brothers are notable siblings who sit on different sides of the political aisle. Simon is younger and less visible, staying out of the headlines and the society pages. From the little I know, he made his money in the City, working as a hedge fund manager or an insurance broker.
His brother, Lord David Buchan, is a former Tory chairman; he was made a life peer back in the noughties, but famously tore up his membership of the Conservative Party during the Brexit referendum, when he campaigned for Britain to leave the European Union, which he called an economic and social failure, full of corrupt politicians and rent-seekers.
‘Have you met Simon Buchan?’ I ask.
‘Once or twice,’ says Florence.
‘I don’t think I’ve even seen a photograph of him.’
‘He’s very private,’ says Florence. ‘Sometimes he listens in on our Zoom conferences. He asked me a question once. He wanted to know the demographics of the migrants being resettled in Britain – their education levels, training, that sort of thing. He wanted us to stress what a positive effect they could have on our economy – filling skills shortages and low-paid jobs, paying taxes, contributing to society.’
Florence picks up a brownie crumb with her wetted forefinger.
‘How long have you been a lawyer?’ I ask.
‘I qualified three years ago.’
‘I’m impressed.’
‘Why? Because I’m black or because I’m a woman?’
