Weenink allowed himself to be led away from the square, down the passage by the Somerfield supermarket. They came out on the riverside walk under the nineteenth-century bridge across the River Eden.

‘Not much life down here,’ said Weenink. ‘Isn’t there a night club open or something?’

‘Night club? On a Thursday?’

‘I need another drink.’

‘It’s closing time.’

‘But we’ve missed some pubs out.’

Weenink slowed down and stared at the river. Dark shadows lurked just below the surface of the slow-moving water. They were only stones, though. The water was too shallow here for them to be anything else. You could walk across and barely get your feet wet.

‘Those ducks are asleep,’ said Weenink. ‘Let’s wake them up.’

‘What for?’

‘It’s too quiet.’

Weenink picked up a handful of gravel and began to throw it at the mallards resting in the reeds with their beaks under their wings. His actions were totally uncoordinated, and the stones fell harmlessly into the water with small plops.

‘I need something bigger.’

Cooper looked round, a vague anxiety creeping through the haze of alcohol. There was little traffic passing over the bridge. The only lights were those that burned in the supermarket. There were probably staff on the night shift in there, stacking shelves and taking deliveries. At any moment, one of them might come outside for a fag break.

‘Let’s move on a bit,’ he said.

‘What for?’

‘We have to get home.’

‘I thought we were going to a night club.’

‘No.’

‘That’s what we want. Have another drink, a bit of dancing. Let’s go to Sheffield. We could go to a casino.’

‘You can go on your own.’

‘Oh, Ben.’

Cooper wasn’t impressed by the sudden wheedling tone. But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave Todd to go anywhere on his own, all the same. Weenink sat down suddenly on a bench. The wooden slats creaked under his weight.

‘God, I’m knackered,’ he said. ‘Totally knackered. I could just go to sleep right here, Ben.’

‘Come on, Todd. We’ve got to keep going.’

‘Sit down, Ben.’

Cooper sat reluctantly. He was cold, and he could feel the first spots of rain. The insulating alcohol was wearing off already.

‘Ben,’ said Weenink in a suddenly different voice. ‘I’ve done something really stupid.’

Cooper’s heart sank. Not now, please, he thought. Any time except now. He was tired. He had to get home.

‘Really, really stupid,’ said Weenink. ‘And I think I’m going to be found out.’