‘It’s a massive deal! So, shall I come and meet you once it’s all finished? I could be outside your office at seven?’

‘Yeah, that sounds great. But can you leave your work thing? Won’t it look bad?’

‘I really, honestly don’t care.’

She laughs again. ‘OK. Cool. See you here at seven.’

I hang up the phone, suddenly feeling alive with purpose. Seven o’clock gives me just under three hours. Plenty of time to try and get some unanswered questions answered …

I’m about to head off in search of the nearest Tube when Jonno steps outside, bringing with him a powerful stench of cocoa butter. The perspiration is glistening on his forehead as he grins at me and lights a cigarette.

‘You had the right idea ducking out here, fella,’ he says. ‘I shit you not: there is a bird on that stage right now whose tits are literally down to her waist. Told you there were some munters in this place.’

‘Jonno,’ I say, before I lose my nerve. ‘Obviously I can’t change your weird, angry, backwards world view. But I would appreciate it if in future you saved your more mindlessly twattish comments until I was at least out of earshot.’

He stands totally still, staring at me, his cigarette dangling limply in his mouth. He looks like I’ve just punched him in the face, and for a second I wonder if that’s now what he’s about to do to me. But then he bursts out laughing, leaving a cloud of thick grey smoke floating between us. ‘Chill out, mate!’ he says. ‘It was only a bit of banter.’

I walk off, feeling giddy at having scratched a ten-year-old itch, and head straight for 15 Foster Road, Bloomsbury.

Chapter Twenty-One

Harv takes a large bite out of his 12-inch Subway Meat Feast and stares at the block of terraced houses in front of us.

‘Pretty weird place,’ he says, finally.

As an architectural summary, it’s bang on. While the other buildings on Foster Road are all identikit immaculate white rectangles, number 15 appears to have been dropped onto the street by mistake. It’s a squat red-brick affair with an uneven roof and a precariously wonky chimney. It looks like one snaggled tooth in an otherwise perfect mouth.

‘So …’ Harv takes another chunk out of his sandwich. ‘Why are we here again?’

I hold my wrist up. ‘I told you: I bought this watch a couple of days ago, and it’s not working. So I’m going to try and have a word with the guy who sold it to me.’

He nods. ‘Right. And you need me here because …’