I knocked as hard as I could, then leaned forward so that my forehead rested against the door. The flaking paint crackled, just audibly. I could also hear the throaty calls of pigeons roosting close at hand and the rumble of traffic. In my mind’s eye I saw Jack and Audrey sitting in the back room, among the cats and piles of newspapers, gazing at each other with wide eyes and holding their breath until the knocking should stop. Suddenly, hot anger flashed through me.

I hammered until my fist throbbed and yelled, ‘Audrey! I want to speak to my son. Open this door immediately or I’ll call the police.’

The door opened an inch and I peered into the gloom. Audrey was there.

‘Tell him to come out right now.’

It was too dark to see her face properly.

‘He doesn’t want to.’

‘I’ve had enough of this.’ I pushed hard at the door, getting my shoulder up against it. Audrey resisted with surprising strength and the door almost slammed in my face before I could shove back again. I heard a rattle as she swiftly slotted the chain into place and blocked the door’s inward swing. Now I was securely locked out.

‘This house is my property,’ Audrey said calmly through the gap. ‘And Jack’s my guest. Why can’t you let him be? We’re watching Animal Hospital. I’ll tell him to phone you later.’

I took a breath. This exchange was so rationally irrational that it sounded surreal.

‘You don’t own him, you know,’ Audrey added. A smoke-grey cat appeared in the narrow slice of hallway and stared up at me with yellow eyes.

‘Listen to me, Audrey. Nobody owns anybody else and I wouldn’t claim that they do. I am Jack’s mother, though, and I’m responsible for his safety and his well-being. And a lot of other things besides, but let’s keep it simple for now. I’m not convinced that he’s safe with you, especially since you seem to need to lock him in.’

‘The chain’s to keep you out, not him in.’

‘I don’t want my son locked in a stranger’s house.’

Audrey snorted. ‘I’m not a stranger. I knew his grandfather for nearly fifty years. And if he wants to take a break from life with you maybe you should ask yourself why, instead of coming round here and shouting at me. There’s no need to worry. I’ll take good care of him.’

‘Let me talk to him.’

‘We’re watching Animal Hospital.’

‘Bugger Animal Hospital.’

I could almost hear Audrey pursing her lips. I’d uttered a profound blasphemy. ‘I’ll see that he calls you later,’ she repeated. The door was closing again and I had to accept that the score now stood at Audrey and Jack 2, Family 0.