As we approach the northern entrance of the Harbour Tunnel, the traffic grinds to a complete standstill. The rain won’t stop and the repeating squeak coming from the worn-out blades of my windscreen wipers jars on my ears, adding to my irritation. “I can’t believe it!” Mayumi says. She takes a deep breath and releases the air slowly, barely audibly. “It’s eleven a.m. What could it be?” “They might say something about it on the radio.” I skip from one station to another erratically, the jumble of words and musical fragments leaving us none the wiser. “And I was also…