But among all these questions, there are things I do know. Things hardwired into me, instinctive.

I know I’m here for a reason.

I know I don’t have forever.

I know I need to make contact with you.

Right now, it’s that last one that’s most pressing. Because if I’d already worked out how to contact you, maybe I’d’ve been able to prevent what’s about to happen.

Because I’ve seen it coming and, like I say, I don’t want to watch this.

Customer Service

‘Can you please leave,’ Meera snaps, eyeballing the guy perched on the snooker table.

‘Me and my friend here are going to finish our frame,’ he replies, ‘and another round of drinks.’ He stares at Will as he says it. ‘Why don’t you fetch us two Stellas, young man?’

‘And couple of tequilas,’ his friend mumbles, his face so taut he appears to have trouble speaking.

Janice’s expression is one of disbelief, angled first at the two men, and then at Will.

‘Where’s Mick?’ Will asks. ‘We should get Mick.’

‘Not a clue,’ Meera says. ‘Disappears when it gets quiet, doesn’t he?’

‘Come here, cock,’ the guy says. His accent isn’t local. It’s London, almost posh. The sort of voice that gets what it wants.

Will looks at the cue lying across the table. If this was a film, he’d reach for that right now. He’d square up to this pair of arseholes, holding – no, brandishing – the cue, and they’d say something like, ‘OK, cool it, mate, we’re leaving.’ But he’s never had a fight, never been interested in how to punch, never thrown his weight around. There are people who somehow know almost instinctively how to do that, but Will is not one of them.

He walks round the table. The guy stands and blocks his path. Will’s at least six inches taller than him but this gives him no sense of security, his height instead making him feel vulnerable, as it always has, as if he’s towering above an invisible fortress that exists to protect all the normal people.

The guy flicks Will’s name tag. ‘Nice to meet you, Mo,’ he says. His breath smells flammable. A halo of white dust outlines his nostrils. He grabs Will’s hand and shakes it. And then keeps holding it. Will tugs a couple of times but it isn’t released.

‘Please leave now,’ Will says. He’s almost pleased with himself. There’s unexpected authority in his voice.

‘You ever had sex?’ the guy asks.