‘Who else?’ Mango said, shaking her head. ‘I don’t know what you did to tick him off but he had all his guns set on you. I Google-stalked you. You’ve led an interesting life.’

‘A boring life would suit me fine.’

‘You’re looking at a forty-five-minute walk back to the Obama,’ Mango said. ‘I’m not even sure you can get across the two-fifteen, unless you play chicken with eight lanes of traffic. Have you ridden on the back of a motorbike before?’

‘Never.’

‘It’ll be a squeeze with my big belly. But I can take it gentle. I need to get my blood sugar up, so I was planning to stop at Juice Jet up the road. I can fix you an Uber home from there.’

‘I’ve got twelve dollars on me,’ Charlie said. ‘I think that should cover it.’

‘Cab’s on me,’ Mango said. ‘It’ll burn some guilt for not sticking up for you.’

Mango didn’t have a spare helmet and Charlie’s fears swung between falling off if she wasn’t holding on, and squashing the unborn if she held too tight. But the ride was over in five, and Charlie got the same confused vibe she’d had with Harry in the posh restaurant as she read the menu of the bright orange Juice Jet counter.

Wheatgrass Wings, After Gym and Tonic, Raspberry Ketone Tipple, Kale Blast, Honey and Ginseng Hangover Blitz …

Charlie was about to offer to pay when she realised that the cheapest blend was nine bucks.

‘What can I get you?’ Mango asked.

‘I’m good,’ Charlie said, freaked by the prices. ‘Maybe just get me the Uber if that’s OK.’

‘Chill,’ Mango said, firm but smiling. ‘Keep me and Junior company until you’ve calmed down.’

‘Is there, like … Regular juice, or something?’

Mango pointed at the menu. ‘Almond Sunset is a good one. It’s a creamy almond milk base with orange, coconut and cocoa. Most of these drinks have more calories than a Snickers bar, but us moms like to dress in sportswear, load an all-terrain stroller in the SUV and come here to pretend we’re healthy …’

‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ Charlie asked warily.

Rather than join the six-strong queue, Mango led Charlie to one of the few empty tables and pulled out her phone.

‘Check this app,’ Mango said, moving her chair round the table so Charlie could see.

‘Is it like McDonald’s, where you order from your phone?’ Charlie asked.

But it wasn’t an online ordering app, with the bright colours and corporate branding. The screen was black, and covered with tiny lines of code and a hash prompt, like an old-school computer.