By the time I walk inside the library, the day has begun to cool. I shiver and make straight for the armchairs.

I shut my eyes to summon the memory of that room, and before long I am there again, the flames licking long shadows on to the walls. I am on the floor, squinting at the scene at the far end of the room, and she is there, bent backwards over the table. There’s something about this scene that I’m missing. My head knows it but my heart stalls each time it draws near. What is it? The music drifts in waves over me.

There’s trouble on the uptrack

And trouble going back

I’ve had trouble with my memory

And trouble with my back …

For a second, I fall asleep and I have the sensation of remembering something important. I am caught between sleep and wakefulness and in that twilight some memory has hardened but just as soon as I wake, it evaporates.

‘Xander.’

My eyes open and I see a face that I know. Long black hair hanging down over brown eyes. The smile is soft.

I take a moment to put the world the right way up.

‘Amit,’ I say.

‘Xander. Where have you been?’ he asks with concern. ‘I was, I don’t know, worried about you? Looked for you a bit on the streets.’

‘Worried why?’ I say, sitting up.

‘Just,’ he says and then after a pause, ‘you didn’t seem right. Like you’d forgotten – stuff. I asked some guys about you. They told me I should stay away from you.’

‘Oh,’ I say, touched. ‘Just had a bit of concussion. But you shouldn’t go looking for me, Amit. It’s not safe.’

‘You’re telling me,’ he says with a grin.

I think about why I am here. ‘You couldn’t help me out, could you?’ I say conspiratorially.

‘Of course, Xander. I’ll never forget, you know. What you did.’

I stare at him in confusion and then in a panic because of what that means for my head.

‘When I was being robbed. By those lads?’ he says.

And now, with that nudge, the memory comes back. It wasn’t far from here, just around the back of this library. I remember seeing two young men – early twenties, maybe a bit older – bothering a schoolkid I had seen earlier in the magazine section. When I got near it was obvious that they were mugging him.

‘Oi, you, piss off,’ I had said, walking up to them. They were skinny, more mouth than muscle.

They turned and one instantly shoved a knife in my direction. I took a quick look and saw that he was holding it like you would hold a wand, with the blade pointing down. I slapped his hand away and watched the knife fly into the road.