‘Let’s ride,’ Alfie says.

Will jiggles the door handle but it doesn’t open.

‘On my to-do list,’ Alfie says, releasing the catch from the inside.

As he lowers his weight into the passenger seat, it occurs to Will that if they crash no one will be able to open the door to get to him. What if he needed urgent medical help? What if there was a fire?

‘Relax, man,’ Alfie tells him. ‘Getting stressed just looking at you.’

Will smiles and slackens his white-knuckled grip on the seat bolster.

‘Cruise along the front? Drop you back at yours after.’

Will nods.

‘Oh, don’t look so scared, cuz. I know how to drive. Promise.’ He swerves left on to the cut-through that leads up to the coast road. For a moment they are dazzled by the evening sun, before Alfie flips down both visors. ‘Fine German engineering,’ he says, directing Will’s attention around the interior with a flailing hand, like an exuberant salesman. ‘BMW indicators – never been used.’

‘Cool,’ Will mumbles.

Alfie has begun frantically winding his window open and closed. ‘Keep-fit windows. Don’t see those on many cars, do you?’

Will smirks.

‘Spanish gearbox.’ Alfie presents the gear lever as if it’s an antique up for auction.

‘Spanish gearbox?’

‘Manuel!’

‘Stop it.’

‘And the crowning glory, Parks – she has a bidet!’

Will’s laughing aloud now. ‘A bidet?’

‘Come on, guess.’

‘I don’t know. Tell me.’

Alfie hits a switch on the dash and there’s a buzzing and a scraping noise from behind them. ‘Rear washer!’

It’s a full minute before Will has stopped laughing. ‘Where do you get all these from?’

‘My dad used to trade a few cars. Used to go up the auctions with him when I was a kid. All the old geezers talked like that.’

They take a right turn and Alfie drives slowly along the front, scanning for people they know as they pass Smugglers and the amusement hall.

‘Looking troubled, man. What’s on your mind?’ Alfie says.

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Now tell your uncle Alf.’

‘How come you were driving up from Patten’s Island?’

‘I live there, cuz. Lived there all my life. Lovely area. The Beverly Hills of the south coast.’

Will laughs. ‘Yeah, know it well. My nan lives there too.’

‘A woman of taste.’

‘Funny question – you didn’t, like, ask someone to tell me to, like, meet you …?’

Alfie’s looking at him with a strange expression. ‘Did I what now, Parks?’

‘Sorry. Really stupid question. But … how come you pulled over? Back there, at the level crossing?’

‘Could hardly miss you, could I? What are you, six eight?’

‘Six five. And a bit.’

‘Crazy.’

Will nods.

‘I like you, Parks, you know that?’

‘Cheers.’

‘And I never know when I might need help with my photography coursework.’

‘Got it.’

‘So what’s happening with you and April then?’

‘What?’