‘Here?’ He stood directly in front of her, a vague challenge, trying to see beyond those deep-water eyes. ‘Seriously?’

She turned towards him, her unfeeling expression fathomless. It scared him. He backed away.

‘OK. OK.’

Someone brushed his shoulder. He started, turned. Limo and Old Girl. Their faces blank, unseeing. Other young people were by their side, equally blind and entranced. They pushed forward, Aaron following. They walked up to the barrier, all of them, and the policeman guarding the street stepped aside, opened the gate, let them enter.

At Number 10 they did the same thing.

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ME AND YOU

The difference begins around midnight when stark light invades his window and the thunder of machinery erupts. Geoff rises and walks across the room. He stands to one side, shielded by musty curtains. There’s a routine clang of metal on metal that’s shrill as a high-pitched voice, and an equally repetitive thud of helicopter blades. He hears shouts, the raw scrape of tools. Something pounds the earth, making his sash window frame rattle and Geoff step away, pressing his back against the cool wall. He pushes one hand against his lips so hard it begins to hurt. He realises what he’s doing and returns to his desk.

He doesn’t know what to do. He plays with the black mouse on its mat. He gnaws loose skin beneath his thumbnail. He throws back his head, sighs deep and swears between clenched teeth. In a fit of anger, he swipes at his phone. One knee bounces. Phone unlocked, he touches favourites and calls home.

‘Mum?’ He waits, scowling. ‘Hello? Yeah, it’s me. I know you know, I’m just saying. You all right? Yes, it’s late. No, nothing’s wrong, it’s just … Look, they’ve started … The wall. Yes. I don’t know. Right.’