‘A hundred years ago it’d have been a marvel. And now we throw them away without a second thought. So … how do you make one?’

‘Well … you get some oil, and … I think there’s something about it in a book I’ve got—’

‘Right,’ said Wobbler, leaning back. ‘You don’t know. I don’t know, either.’

‘But I wouldn’t bother with that. I’d write science fiction,’ said Kirsty. ‘Moon landings and stuff.’

‘You probably could,’ said Wobbler. A tired expression crossed his face, and he started to pat the pockets of his coat as if looking for something. ‘But I’ve never had much of a way with words, I’m afraid. No. I opened a hamburger bar.’

Johnny looked around, and then started to grin.

‘That’s right,’ said Wobbler. ‘In 1952. I knew it all, you see. Thick shakes, Double Smashers with Cheese’n Egg, paper hats for the staff, red sauce in those little round plastic bottles that look like tomatoes … oh, yes. I had three bars in the first year, and ten the year after that. There’s thousands, now. Other people just couldn’t keep up. I knew what would work, you see. Birthday treats for the kids, the Willie Wobbler clown—’

‘Willie Wobbler?’ said Kirsty.

‘Sorry. They were more innocent times,’ said Wobbler. ‘And then I started … other things. Soft toilet paper, for a start. Honestly, the stuff they had back in the 1940s you could use as roofing felt! And when that was going well, I started to listen to people. People with bright ideas. Like “I think I could make a tape recorder really small so that people could carry it around” and I’d say “That might just catch on, you know, here’s some money to get started”. Or “You know, I think I know a way of making a machine to record television signals on tape so that people could watch them later” and I’d say “Amazing! Whatever will they think of next! Here’s some money, why don’t we form a company and build some? And while we’re about it, why don’t we see if movies can be put on these tape thingies too?”’

‘That’s dishonest,’ said Kirsty. ‘That’s cheating.’

‘I don’t see why,’ said Wobbler. ‘People were amazed that I’d listen to them, because everyone else thought they were crazy. I made money, but so did they.’

‘Are you a millionaire?’ said Bigmac.

‘Oh, no. I was a millionaire back in 1955. I’m a billionaire now, I think.’ He snapped his fingers again. The chauffeur in black, who had silently appeared behind them, stepped forward.

‘I am a billionaire, aren’t I, Hickson?’

‘Yes, Sir John. Many times.’

‘Thought so. And I think I own some island somewhere. What was it called now … Tasmania, I think.’

Wobbler patted his pockets again, and finally brought out a slim silver case. He flicked it open and took out two white pills, which he swallowed. He grimaced, and sipped from his glass of water.

‘You haven’t touched your One with Everything,’ said Johnny, watching him.