He strode past passengers milling around the baggage carousels, stalked through customs, and then through arrivals, and was on the Heathrow Express within half an hour of landing, heading for London. Bakerloo line to Warwick Avenue, then down on to the towpath and up the canal to Veronica Ann where McCulloch seemed to be standing exactly where he’d left him. By this point Dan was wild-eyed with the strain of staying awake and staying furious, and when Jim stepped ashore to say welcome back, his genial face crumpled with concern. ‘Dan, whatever’s wrong, are you all right?’

No, Dan thought, no, no, no, and he could easily have wept like a fool, but McCulloch, desperate for attention, suddenly launched himself upwards into his arms, squirming with barely endurable joy at this long-awaited red-letter day, and Dan was able to take refuge in laughter, not tears. He was eighteen the last time he cried, really cried, because that was the last time he’d been slayed by misery, and that had been Alison’s fault too.

He stayed the night on Crazy Diamond, but might as well have driven through the night for all the rest he got. His internal clock was screwed, and it turned out exhaustion alone wasn’t enough to make a man sleep. At 3 a.m. he rang Duncan – God bless Duncan – who answered on the second ring.

‘Dan Lawrence, I’m missing you, pal, but is this call costing me?’

Dan laughed, feeling a little better already at the sound of his friend’s voice. ‘I’m in London, you tight bastard,’ he said. ‘I’m on the boat sharing a single bed with a dog that snores.’

‘You’re back?’ Duncan was confused. ‘That went quick.’

‘Not for me, Dunc, it’s been a bit torrid.’

‘What has? What’s gone down?’

‘I …’ He stopped, because he didn’t know how to start. ‘Look, I’m coming home tomorrow. Let’s talk then over a pint, at Gordon’s.’

‘You OK, Dan? I can come down if you like, travel back with you?’

Sweet guy, a good friend. Once again, Dan thanked the heavens and Cathay Pacific for bringing him home to safety and sanity. ‘No, no, I’ll get an early train, and I’ve got McCulloch to talk to.’

‘Well, take it easy, travel safe,’ Duncan said, not convinced. Phone calls in the wee small hours weren’t Dan’s style, and despite the quip, he sounded sad, unmistakably sad, and that wasn’t Dan’s style either. ‘Text me when you’re back. I’ll be right there.’