‘We’ll need a crowbar or something, won’t we, to open the door?’ Larry said. ‘I can get one from that big B&Q when it opens at eight. But how will we know which flats are empty? I mean, I can’t exactly go round crowbarring open people’s gaffs. Jerome would be bound to find out and be on us like a ton of spuds.’

They thought about this, and Alice couldn’t help but hear the words ‘mixed metaphor’, spoken in the voice of her creepy Drama teacher, drift through her head. In fact this whole escapade seemed more like a piece they’d have devised for their Expressive Arts GCSE rather than reality. The obvious thing to do would be to ask Jerome, as he seemed to know the business of everyone on that estate – but he was the last person they needed to know they were there.

‘A boarded-up one. That’s what we need. Remember when we went to see Jerome before? We passed loads on the way up to his flat. We should just go into another block, up to the highest floor we can, then wait to check no-one’s around and crowbar it open.’

‘You’re a fucking genius,’ Larry said, and they kissed again.

They spent the night in the pub garden, zipping together their sleeping bags and putting Spesh the cuddly tiger – ironically, of course – in between them like a child. Alice wished it was Frankie. At five-thirty they woke, with bark chippings in their hair and dew on their sleeping bags.

By eight twenty they were at the Kennedy, having gone via B&Q for a crowbar, a machine coffee, a quick wash in the toilets and a Snickers bar each for breakfast. They’d decided on the twelfth floor of Block G, fairly sure that it didn’t contain any other residents – all three flats at that level were boarded up. After an hour with no movement, even after they had knocked on each door as loudly as they dared, Larry set to work with the crowbar. The wooden planks splintered noisily but surrendered with ease, and to their delight, the door underneath hadn’t even been locked. It opened immediately and they grinned at each other as they stepped inside.

Their smiles faded a bit as they took in their new home. The previous occupants had clearly left in a rush, and the flat stank of musty carpets and old takeaways. But it had an ancient sofa in it, and one saucepan in the kitchenette. The toilet was filthy but usable.

‘This is fine,’ said Alice doubtfully.

‘It’ll have to be,’ replied Larry, equally doubtfully.