‘Go to sleep, amore.’ She was sounding calm, and gentle, like old times. Fa la ninna, bel bambin.

Matty was becoming more like Mamma, going up and down, a Jack-in-the-box. ‘Fuck you.’ Mumbled too quietly to be heard.

It was getting hard to breathe. There was a wall walker digging into one ear.

Mamma got up and the door shut. The heat from her hand dissolving. Matty took the pillow off, face oven-baked, and stared back up at the plastic stars.

In the changing area, two old men, both naked, were playing badminton with wooden paddles. One man was really tanned and creased, and one was much whiter. Their willies were the same length as the shuttlecock that was arcing back and forth between them. It made a little pocking sound against the rackets.

Matty couldn’t have imagined Dad walking around with no clothes on in here. But maybe he had. He was quite skinny, apart from his belly. ‘How did that get there?’ he’d say, looking down at it as if it only appeared when Matty prodded it. ‘Must’ve swallowed a football.’ And he’d prod Matty back, tickle mercilessly. He used to come out of the bathroom with messy hair and a towel round his waist and put his wet arms around Mamma.

‘Hello, hello.’ Gegsy came into the changing area, dripping, just as Matty was putting a trainer on. One of the tattoos on his ribs was of a snake twisting round a stick. He pointed, one eye shutting. ‘I’ve got someone for you to meet, if he’s still outside. Chop chop.’

‘No promises or anything, mate,’ Gegsy said as they went out of the Pond gate, a towel round his neck like a scarf. ‘I just asked around a bit. There he is.’ He nodded up onto the grass.

It was him. The Man in White. Sitting on a large white blanket. Gegsy knew an archangel. Matty’s heart beat faster as they walked up to him.

‘This is Clive,’ said Gesgy. ‘This is Matty.’

The Man in White put down the book that he was reading, the pages splayed. There was a picture of a person on all fours, but cut in half, on the front. ‘Hello there,’ he said. His voice was quite low for someone so small, with an itchy rasp to it.

Gegsy sat down on the grass next to the white blanket. ‘This geezer knows everyone.’

Matty stayed standing. The man had a pale grey moustache which you’d only notice close-up. Everyone. He’d seemed like a loner.

‘So, Joe,’ the man said. ‘Irish chap?’

Nod.

‘So high?’ He nodded over to another man who was standing up, smearing suntan lotion over one shoulder.

Nod.

‘Liked a cigarette? Barnet?’

‘Yeah.’