A couple of minutes later, she pulled out a set of keys that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the belt of a night security guard. The Crow carried on pushing for another minute as she zipped her bag up and sorted along the line of keys to find the one that fit the outer door.

‘Hey,’ The Crow said to the boy who looked to be about six years old. ‘Who’s your favourite football team, then?’

‘Hearts,’ the boy said proudly. ‘Every other team is crap!’

‘Lennox!’ the woman scolded. ‘Mind your language. God, I’m sorry, gets it from his daddy. Mild as you like until there’s football on the telly, then you wouldn’t know it was the same man.’

‘Aye, well, if you can’t swear a bit about football, when can you?’

She looked grateful not to have been judged and the boy accepted The Crow ruffling his hair with only the bare minimum of a grimace.

The Crow enjoyed playing the part. It proved what he already knew but hadn’t had a chance to put into practice yet: that he was ready to become. He could change almost every aspect of himself to fit whatever role he needed to play. Nature was a clever beast. It allowed you to stalk your prey silently but gave you a roar that would deafen the herd. It provided you with the softest feathers, bones as light as air, but a beak that could gouge eyes and rip out a still-beating heart. He was stronger than ever because he’d learned to portray weakness.

Now the woman was talking about a toddler group. Did his imaginary wife want to join? And don’t sign up with the doctor’s surgery round the corner because you’ll wait two weeks for an appointment. A longer journey and you could see a doctor the same day you phoned.

He smiled broadly as she talked, the grin becoming more and more genuine as they neared the door to the flats. It had been easier than he’d imagined. Integrate yourself into someone else’s unit, look like you belonged, appear at home. If anyone was watching, they’d see a man walking comfortably with his partner and her children. What could possibly be suspect about that? And they were laughing, having a good time. Ruffling the boy’s hair had been a genius touch. Helping with the pram for a minute, even better.

The woman pushed her key into the outer lock. He stepped back, holding the door as she pushed the pram in first. A siren wailed in the distance, coming closer. The girl – Pauline, who he’d so convincingly nearly fallen over – went next. The boy stopped in the doorway, staring up at him.

‘You never told me who you support,’ he said.

The sirens were getting louder now and The Crow stared up the road.