He found consolation in the fact that the van was a brand-new Ford Transit with the word Vagabonds written in a wavy, multicoloured line along its side. At least that reassured him that he wasn’t going to be taken off to some dank hovel on a remote hillside and tortuously cut into little pieces with a blunt bread knife. He waited at the side of the passenger door while the figure got into the driver’s side and reached over to unlock it for him. He climbed in and felt immediately the comforting warmth of its interior. The engine was started and then the figure undid the drawstrings of the hood and pushed it back. For the first time, Dan was assured that his driver was a woman, and as she ruffled her spiky brown hair, he recognized her features from the photograph in Battersea Gran’s magazine.

She turned to him, a smile on her bright, scrubbed face. “Hullo, Dan. I’m Katie Trenchard,” she said, holding out a hand. “The weather’s so bad that I thought I’d come to meet you rather than wait for your telephone call.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he replied. Shaking her hand was like gripping an icicle.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t introduce myself earlier. You just looked so cold and miserable standing on the platform that I thought it would be best to get you into the heat before we started having any conversation. Anyway, how was your journey?”

“Interesting.”

“Let me guess. You got no sleep, the heating blew hot and cold, and you shared your compartment with someone who snored.”

Dan was amazed. “That’s a bit too accurate. You didn’t arrange it, by any chance, did you?”

Katie laughed. “No. It’s just par for the course. The secret is to slip a tenner into the attendant’s hand before you set off. They’re usually very good at juggling around with the berths.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll make sure I do that on the way home.”

Katie revved up the engine, engaged gear, and moved off towards the exit of the station car park. “Are you returning to London tonight?”

“Probably. I left the return open in case I needed more time up here.” As they turned out onto the street, he looked out of the window at the people scurrying from shop to shop with their umbrellas angled in protection against the driving sleet. He let out a rueful laugh. “But I think that I’ll try to get back there as soon as I can.”

“So you don’t think much of our wonderful weather, then?” Katie asked, her voice lilting with amusement.

“I can’t believe that there could be such a change over five hundred miles. It was like summer when I left London last night. Is September always like this up here?”