I dryly answered, but neither of us was concentrating and everything became awkward and strange until you slowed to a standstill.

‘This is me, but I don’t want to leave you while they’re knocking around.’

I glanced over at the boys, who were mounting their bikes. ‘I think they’re going now,’ I said under my breath.

Like your car, the town house that contained your flat was more impressive in the sunlight. The door wasn’t the black I’d taken it for but racing green. I turned towards the canopy of the opposite mansion block I’d sheltered under that night. That too appeared different, swankier. I almost slipped up by saying so, but was thankfully saved by the sound of cycles whizzing past.

‘Thank Christ for that,’ you said.

We watched as they wheelied down the road. Waiting until they became nothing but the tiny specks of shit that they were.

‘I’m sorry about that, Constance.’ You placed your hand on my shoulder.

‘It’s not your fault there are idiots in the world.’

‘I know, but I should have said something, maybe.’

‘No, no, don’t be silly.’ But you should have, Samuel, you really should.

‘Why don’t I drive you to the station from here?’

‘No, honestly. I’m practically there now. By the time I’d got in the car, I’d be climbing out again.’

‘I know, but— Hello!’ You weren’t addressing me anymore but shouting and waving at someone behind me. I turned to see it was an old man, coming up the other side of the road with a bag of shopping, waving back. Your focus returned to me. ‘He lives in the flats opposite. Seems a right character, bless him. Anyway, Constance, what I need is a nice long, hot shower.’

You looked directly into my eyes. Were you using the words provocatively? I couldn’t sustain the contact and stared down at the pavement.

‘Yeah . . . sure . . . Enjoy . . . I’ll see you Monday.’ When I brought my gaze back up, you were already running up the steps to the front door. At the top, you held up the keys and did a thumbs-up. I laughed. Then you were gone.

After rummaging in my bag for a fag, I lit up, took a long, hard drag and tried to contain my excitement at the return of your friendliness towards me. Exhaling, I watched the old boy trudge up the road and was in a dilemma as to whether I should cross and help him. But as he neared, I could see how sharply dressed he was, with his bright red V-necked jumper and camel trilby, and sensed any offer of assistance could offend. Instead, I nodded and smiled, then headed off towards the station. As I did, I saw them in the distance. The shits. Cycling back up the road.