I downed two mugs of tap water, grabbed a bag of mini-Twix off the bench, and pulled the door of the flat shut behind me. My mouth was stale, my stomach was churning like a bread mixer, but as I pushed the key into my jeans pocket and jogged down the stairs I felt strangely clear-headed for a man in my condition.

‘Hiya, mate.’

Jaz looked quite pleased to see me. Which made sense, considering what I guessed would be a fairly sizable fare by now.

‘Rightio, Jaz. What are we up to?’

‘Just ticked over to forty-two fifty. Sorry, but you’ve been bloody ages.’

‘No worries, money well spent, as it goes. And look, I can see why I might have given you the wrong first impression, so first things first, let’s fix up the forty-two fifty to show you I’m good for it. Actually, what the hell, make it forty-five.’

Jaz looked vaguely amused and one eyebrow disappeared up under her cap, but she tapped my card on her machine then passed it back to me.

‘OK, what now? Are you off? We done?’

‘No such luck, Jaz. I’ve got a plan and it involves you. If you’re willing to stay on the meter for . . . well, for as long as it takes really.’

‘A fare’s a fare, mate. If you’re paying, I’m driving.’

‘Right, excellent. OK, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ve got—’ I squinted one eye and tried to do some quick calculations in my head, factoring in my earlier unsuccessful punt at the Lamb (which I’d just remembered), when my previously lucky fruit machine had swallowed sixty pounds in fifteen minutes without so much as a fiver return. ‘Well, let’s call it virtually unlimited funds, give or take the price of a pint. We’re on a mission to find a girl, Jaz!’

Both of Jaz’s eyebrows shot out of sight this time. ‘Listen, mate—’

‘Danny, please. Call me Danny.’

‘Listen, Danny, you seem like a nice bloke. I think I can . . .’ She cleared her throat tactfully. ‘I mean, I can take you somewhere within about a mile of here if you want to, err, “find a lady”.’ She mimed some air quotes and gave me a wink, which was kind of lovely until I realised what she thought I meant.

‘No, no, no. Shit no! Not that kind of girl. Not that there’s anything wrong with . . . No, I mean it’s a particular girl, my . . . my niece actually.’ I was surprised at the pride in my voice and that really was lovely.

‘My niece.’ I repeated it louder the second time. ‘She’s fifteen and she’s, well, she’s not exactly missing . . . I mean, it’s only been a couple of hours, but her mother, my sister—’ There was that pride again. ‘She’s worried, because there was kind of a misunderstanding. I need to find her as soon as possible so we can, you know, iron it all out.’