Jaz was still marvelling at the fact she’d been carting around a minor celebrity (her words), when I told her the rest about Lou and Wolfie. How they came to be back in my life after all those years of being lost, and that now I couldn’t imagine a life without them in it. And how I never saw that coming; like my mother’s one-way trip to Brighton and my father dying with his warm cup of tea and his overflowing gutters. I told Jaz about my sister and her moped and the Tesco van that she did see coming, and that even after everything that’d happened – or maybe even because of it – I thought we were going to be OK, Lou and me.

Then, because it was so easy to talk to the back of Jaz’s head, I told her how badly we’d blown it when Wolfie overheard us talking about the accident that wasn’t quite. About what I’d seen on her bedroom ceiling and that letter she’d written and not sent. I told Jaz I needed to let Wolfie know it wasn’t just her and Lou any more, she had me now. And that, actually, she’d had me at hello when she rocked up in her Bob Dylan T-shirt and fake glasses and smart-mouthed me out of the water.

Jaz went quiet for a couple of blocks, and I wondered if she was disappointed that I’d revealed myself as a fraudulent spiritual advisor who couldn’t even manage his own life. I saw her eyes flick to the side mirrors, then she indicated and slid the cab into a parking space on the side of the road. Well, that’s my lot, I thought. She’s going to demand that last twenty-eight fifty on the meter and kick me out in the middle of— Where were we? I looked out of the window and realised we were on Haverstock Hill, almost back at the Lamb and Flag. Spirals. Ever-decreasing circles. Who knew? At least it wasn’t going to be much of a walk home.

Jaz cut the engine and twisted around to face me. She pushed her cap back on her head and looked at me without speaking for a couple of seconds. She had kind brown eyes and a tiny raised scar on the bridge of her nose, and I’m sorry but I couldn’t help noticing.

She pointed at me through the little slot in the partition.

‘You know what you are, don’t you, Danny?’

‘An idiot?’

‘What?’ I jumped as the unexpected sound of her laughter reverberated around the cab. Shit, worse than an idiot? ‘No, you’re not an idiot. You, my friend, are a very good egg.’

Well, that was unexpected. She wriggled a bit more in her seat, so we were almost square on.

‘Listen, Danny, honest to God, there’s nothing more important than family. Look what my grandparents gave up for theirs to have a better life, even though sixty years later they still think about home every single day. Look at my mum and dad and how they just kept on loving and supporting me, even though I was nineteen and having all the babies and they knew Lucas was a wrong ’un from the start.’ She paused and smiled. ‘Even Jojo’s figured that out quicker than I did.’