I tried the handle; the door opened. The air inside was stale and had a rank smell, like body odour but more acrid. It smelled unhealthy and I wanted to get out of there. There was a half-open door to the left through which I could see a messy kitchen table. Ahead was one door; to the right was another.

Two rooms, four people, I thought. Don’t want to get the wrong one.

‘Hello?’ I said. ‘Hello?’

A minute later I heard a cough from the door to my right.

‘Who is it?’

It was Roland’s voice. Thank God he was there. I could give him the watch and get out of there. The smell, the darkness, the whole atmosphere of the place put me on edge. Without thinking, I opened the bedroom door.

‘It’s me,’ I said.

Roland was lying on a bare mattress in the corner of the room. On the floor at the foot of the mattress was an empty bottle of Vladivar vodka and an ashtray stuffed with cigarette butts. The table by the bed was covered with foil squares, blackened where they’d been burned.

Roland was naked, and he was not alone. There was a girl lying next to him, asleep, her head resting on her outstretched arm. She too was naked.

‘Fuck!’ Roland said. ‘Get the fuck out of here!’

He grabbed a sheet which was crumpled against the wall and threw it over the girl, covering her head as well as her body.

It was too late. I may only have had a couple of seconds to look at her, but that was enough for me to see that it was my – our – cousin. Roland was in bed with Chrissy.

I stood outside the room, my heart pounding.

Oh. My. God.

The door opened and Roland stepped out. He had put on a pair of jeans. His eyes were red.

‘Kitchen,’ he said. He sat at the table. ‘Put the kettle on, would you? Tea’s in the cupboard. There’s no milk.’

I filled the kettle and put it on the hob. There was a mug in the sink. It was from New York, and was stained brown with tannin. I dropped in a teabag and waited for the kettle to boil.

‘Jesus,’ he said. ‘You didn’t see that, all right?’

See what, exactly? That Chrissy was using heroin as well? That her and Roland were sleeping together? Were they sleeping together, in the sense of having sex, or were they just sleeping in the same bed? Was she taking heroin? I didn’t really know.

‘Don’t tell anyone.’ He held my gaze. ‘Promise?’