But Silver wouldn’t let her. He had brought a flashlight, which he shone down onto the front of the building below us. Each house had its own individual balcony, separate from next door’s, and the railing was not dumbbells of stone but an ironwork trellis. Those of 18 and 22 had only been blackened by the fire, as the whole upper part of the facade had been, and looked structurally sound but the one in the middle, on 20, had been damaged by some other agency, the firemen’s ladders perhaps. Those balconies were not intended for standing on or climbing over, nor used as repositories for heavy equipment, and this one was sagging from the wall, its floor actually split away from the main fabric and showing a wide crack.

We all dropped down onto the balcony, feeling our way gingerly and holding on to the lintels in the dormers. It was perhaps as well we did for when we got to 20 the floor groaned and creaked under our weight, especially under Silver’s. He wasn’t heavy for his height but he was a lot heavier than Liv and I, and when he took a step a piece of masonry broke loose under his tread and went clattering down into the front garden below.

Hastily we climbed back up again. By then we realized we were going to have to leave Liv behind. We went all the way back with her, using up more valuable time, and left her in the flat with the intention of once more phoning her mother, though by this time, in Sweden, it was almost eleven.

Silver had his doubts then whether we should abandon the whole venture until the next night but I dissuaded him and we set off once more, this time along the pavements. The final painting of the terrace in Peterborough Avenue had begun, there was quite a strong paint smell in the warm still air, and we wondered if perhaps we might make ourselves known at 4E only to have to abandon them through lack of access.

Though a light was on in the room we had decided must be Jason’s, the flowers on the makeshift curtain showing up red and yellow against the gleaming green background, the living room was in darkness. Still, the window was open several inches at top and bottom and inside it was rather untidy, a newspaper lying on the floor, cups and a glass on the table, cushions in the two armchairs flattened, and a pair of women’s shoes on the rug in front of the fireplace, as if Alison had kicked them off and let them lie. If this had been Silver’s place, it would have been quite normal for a room to be left like this overnight, indeed much worse than this, but we had had evidence of Alison’s need to tidy up before she went to bed. She’d be back and probably Andrew would too.