Across the road, Rory fidgeted, as if not completely happy with how things were going down.

Harry turned a dull red, his eyes emitting sparks. ‘We’re eighteen. Adults. If we choose to go to London then it’s nobody else’s business.’

Slowly, Clancy nodded. ‘I suppose that’s true, so I’ll put the question another way. Do your families know you’re going?’

Impatiently, Harry turned on his heel. ‘C’mon,’ he said to Rory, marching over and grabbing one of the backpacks. ‘We’ll walk to the main road and see how far we can hitch. It’s summer – we can camp out if we don’t get there tonight.’

‘Hang on.’ Clancy tried to sound as if her heart wasn’t trotting in alarm at this development. ‘You talked to Aaron yesterday, did you?’

Harry gave a jerky nod.

‘What did he say? Does he know that you’re going to London? And whether you’re coming back?’ Clancy tried to imagine Aaron being told a second time that someone was going to London, and whether he’d been as icy over the boys’ plans as he had with hers.

It was Rory who answered. ‘He talked to us about our options. Moving away together was one of them.’

‘But like this?’ Clancy pressed, pushing back her hair as a car blew past them down the lane and both boys raised an acknowledging hand at the driver.

‘Look, we’ll be all right. We’ll hitch,’ Harry said, as if being seen by the driver of the car had unsettled him. ‘Sorry to ask. We’re not your problem.’

Rory, obviously taking his cue, slid his arms into the straps of his backpack and hefted it onto his shoulders. He looked miserable. Harry looked pugnacious.

Clancy sighed. ‘Come on. At least I can get you there safely.’ And she beeped open her car, watching matching smiles break over Harry and Rory’s faces while she fought a hollow feeling that she’d just complicated an already complicated week.

She used the journey to chat to Harry and Rory about their – sketchy, it turned out – plans. When they stopped for a comfort break, Clancy lingered in the ladies’ long enough to ring Aaron and leave messages on his answering machine and his voicemail. ‘It’s Clancy. Harry and Rory were going to hitch to London so I decided it would be the lesser of two evils if I took them. They’re making a big deal out of being eighteen and able to go where they want but they’re babies in terms of worldliness. They’ve got just over a hundred pounds between them, which might get them into a hostel for a night or two I suppose, but they haven’t got a clue where to find one. I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing but it’s obviously safer for them to be with me than hitching. Ring me when you can, please.’ She had absolutely no idea of her next step if he didn’t. Or even if he did.

Next, deciding that she could stand the financial hit, she rang the hotel where she was staying in Muswell Hill to see if she could book Harry and Rory a room, only to discover that owing to extra publicity around a big event at Alexandra Palace, the hotel was now full. She was reluctant to stash two eighteen-year-olds with, she surmised, limited street smarts, in some other hotel. The only way she’d have to keep in touch with them was a cheap pay-as-you-go phone that belonged to Rory. Smart phones weren’t something Nelson’s Bar parents prioritised as their kids had to leave the village to use them.