‘Aldwych,’ the works manager says as gruffly as before. ‘Silly prat,’ he mutters. ‘Oops, not allowed to express an opinion,’ he adds pointedly.

They reach a room full of workers having a tea break. Orange overalls, safety hats and head torches everywhere and all conversation ends the second they walk in. One set of large overalls rest on the back of a chair that the works manager starts putting on.

‘Hi.’ Ben says, looking round at the grimy, expressionless faces. ‘How’s it going?’ No response. ‘You work for the same firm as the bloke who got electrocuted?’

‘Are you questioning my staff?’ the works manager asks sharply. ‘Cos they got union reps who should be present if you’re doing that.’

‘Ah now,’ Ben says, smiling apologetically with one hand on the back of his neck as he looks up at the works manager. ‘Are they your staff then?’

‘Eh?’

‘You’re the works manager, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So you’re employed by Transport for London.’

‘I am.’

Ben can see the overalls worn by the men are not Transport for London issued, which in turn means they are not Transport for London workers. ‘These are subbies,’ he says with a nod to the still quiet workers. ‘So they’re not employed directly by Transport for London.’

‘What?’

‘Just saying.’ Ben shrugs casually. ‘You know . . . technically they’re not your staff. They’re subcontracted so they’re employed by someone else who you pay to do certain work.’

‘We’re going,’ he says with a rapidly reddening face.

‘Thing is,’ Ben says, holding his ground and not walking after him, ‘these blokes are covered by the same safety regulations as everyone else working down here . . . but they’re not covered by Transport for London employment rules.’ Ben holds his gaze as though talking directly to him but knowing everyone in the room is listening intently. ‘So they can talk to me if they want to, you know . . .’ He pulls a few business cards from his back pocket, ‘if they want to tell me anything they can.’ He drops the cards on the table. ‘Safety breaches . . . unnecessary risks . . . fault reports not being actioned . . . you know, the sort of thing insurance companies get payouts for . . .’ He lets the last few words hang in the air and feels the change in atmosphere as the works manager looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.

‘We need to get on,’ he growls.

In the next room, the works manager issues Ben with a safety helmet, an orange vest, a head torch and a safety guide to read through, then makes him sign for a laminated visitor’s card. Ben’s office is full of protective clothing they can use but it’s always interesting to turn up without anything and see what rules they break. Everything here is done properly.