Clio officiated, waving a mug of coffee, not offering anyone else a drink. She brought them to order, her voice rising impatiently over the general babble.

‘So. Everyone knows why we’re here, yeah? To discuss the highly intrusive and illegal state surveillance on our lives during the years 1995 and 1996, by the person we knew as Mark Carr.’

‘Right right right. We need to backtrack a bit, Clio.’ Gaz was holding up a hand. ‘We ain’t got proof yet. You’ve sent us all that one photo, and we’ve all agreed it looks a bit like him—’

‘Bloody spitting image, matey. Come on,’ muttered Spider.

‘But we can’t just – what? What you thinking? We all just roll up at his police HQ or whatever and start pointing the finger? I mean, what if it’s just a coincidence? Posh blokes all look a bit alike, don’t they? Now, it’s all right for most of you here, but me and Sammi, we got responsibilities, int we? We got families to think of. We can’t afford to get hit with some sort of defamation lawsuit or whatever they’re called. We need to be sure about this.’

‘I don’t see what your ability to reproduce or not has to do with anything,’ Fran said, drawing herself up tall from the beanbag slump. ‘There are risks for all of us in this. For me, and Spider maybe the most. Mark actually witnessed us committing crimes.’

‘And yet have any of you done time for them? No.’

‘Well, Fran was arrested, matey,’ Spider said, his voice a gentle wheeze. ‘The McDonald’s thing. And a lot of them lot that really led the Greater London ALF was picked up just before he disappeared.’

‘Exactly,’ said Clio. ‘We weren’t necessarily his direct targets, but he was using us as cover. Excellent cover. We lived with him, we vouched for him to other activists, we brought him into our networks and made him look real. Not least his relationship with Sammi here.’

All eyes swivelled up to the bar stool. Sam grinned at them all and waved a sheepish hand.

‘Y’all right?’