‘I don’t know what you want me to do.’

‘That’s the test.’

I sat there for perhaps thirty seconds, trying to figure out what he wanted and getting nowhere.

‘I told you it was a waste of time,’ said Mother Fallopia in a triumphant manner.

‘Well, thank you for coming in,’ said Logan after a minute had ticked by. ‘How many more to be seen?’

‘I was the last.’

He shut his notebook.

‘Then we’re done.’

I felt the despondency rise within me once more, and studiously avoided Fallopia’s gaze as I got to my feet, thanked Logan and made for the door. I grasped the handle, stopped, had a sudden idea and turned around.

‘To escort a likely lad,’ I said slowly, ‘from lower Llanboidy with collies and  . . . brollies from Flitwick to Chiswick while  . . . Krugers with Lugers take potshots at hotshots is enough to—’

I stopped for thought. I’d only heard it once, and wasn’t really concentrating. But it had rhymed, and that made it easier. Logan looked at me with interest.

‘Go on.’

‘—make mammoths with a gram’s worth of  . . . hammocks feel down with a clown from Manchester Town.’

Logan nodded.

‘That’s very good.’

‘It was a piece of crap,’ said Mother Fallopia crossly. ‘Worthing added “from Flitwick” in the middle.’

‘I know that,’ I said, ‘it scans better.’

Logan smiled.

‘It does indeed. When can you start?’

‘I can start right now. May I ask a question?’

‘Sure.’

‘Why do you need my memory?’

He stared at me for a moment.

‘Because mine’s not good enough for what I might need to do.’

He then got to his feet, took my hand in his and pulled me into a Winter embrace. Now I was closer I could smell a mixture of aftershave, dinner and cognac.

‘Welcome aboard. Stay close, do what I say and make as many mistakes as you want – just never the same one twice. Got it?’

‘Yes, sir.’

He released me, looked at his watch and said that he had to leave. Shockingly, he and Mother Fallopia – Prudence – kissed full on the lips. They embraced tightly, said their goodbyes and he made for the door.

‘Walk with me,’ he said, and I turned to Mother.

‘Thank you for all you’ve done for me,’ I said, trying to be sincere but actually sounding deeply sarcastic. She glared at me in return.

‘You’ll be back by Springrise,’ she said, ‘either with tail between legs or in a zinc coffin. But there’ll be no point. Your job will not be open upon your return. Good luck. You’re going to need it.’

We said nothing more, and I followed Logan out.

‘Prudence isn’t as bad as she makes out,’ he said as we walked towards the exit by way of the back hall. ‘What did you do to piss her off?’