I wondered how much time I might have, really. Enough for a can or two? I could do without a shower, just about, as I had showered the evening before, so perhaps I could just squeeze in a can. The usual drunk maths began to play out: how late was I? If I was not very late, then I could spare the minutes needed to fortify myself with a Stella, or even two. And if I was very, very late, then those minutes wouldn’t make too much difference and I could afford that Stella, or even two. But there was a nasty little strip of no-man’s-land between those two comforting trenches, when I was late but the damage was still escalating, and I needed to get moving. I feared I might be on that thirsty median this morning. Trouble had accumulated on my phone. I had missed three calls – how I hated the sight of that twisted red arrow. There were emails as well, of course, and texts, and other notifications, but calls were trouble. Missed calls were big trouble.

As if to confirm my worst suspicions, the phone started to vibrate in my hand, another incoming call. When I swiped to answer, my thumb dragged on the particles of grit that had settled on the screen during the night.

‘Yep.’

‘Jack.’ It was Eddie. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m on my way,’ I said. There was nothing else I could say, but it set another clock ticking. No time for that can.

‘It is’ – there was a significant pause while he checked, probably from the lower-right corner of his computer screen – ‘ten twenty. You should be here before ten. And you are still on your way. Are you still at home?’

‘I’m sorry, Eddie,’ I said, trying to sound as humble as possible without crawling. ‘I overslept.’

‘We talked about this.’

‘I know, I know. I’m sorry.’

An exhalation came over the line, accompanied by rustling and bumping. Without being able to see him, I knew that he was running the fingers of his free hand through his curls.

‘Find me when you get in,’ he said. ‘I need an update on your pages. Polly too.’

He was being stern to a positively un-Eddie-like degree, which terrified me. I had at last depleted his goodwill, and I was so frightened I put both feet into a hole. ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘It’s all good.’

‘Great,’ Eddie said. ‘I look forward to hearing about it. I knew you’d get a good result with Alexander.’

‘Yeah, absolutely,’ I said.

‘OK, see you soon. Don’t get back into bed.’ I could almost hear the smirk, the twinkle in the eye. The call ended. The old Eddie was back, but that was the old Eddie’s way of issuing a warning.