I tried again. Maybe he was up in a forest manning a harvester, stoically ignoring me. It went to answerphone. ‘It’s m—It’s Polly. I know why you looked at me like that. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Please call back.’

Brilliant. Most cryptic message ever. I poked in another number.

I loitered outside the secondary school, a long, bland building next to a lime-green field, and bit down on a roll-up.

Finn loped out, his head swiftly moving from side to side as if he was doing a world-saving drop for MI6. He wheeled his moped over to me and fished out his keys. ‘Seriously, though, can you drive it on your own?’

‘Just remind me again.’

He pulled out a bit of chewing gum from his mouth and let it pop back in. ‘What’s up, anyway?’

‘Finn, I haven’t got time. Please.’

He talked me through it, putting his hand over mine to get me using the clutch on the extended handle at the same time as changing the only gear with my foot. The bike made a sound like a really annoyed giant bluebottle. I jolted forward two feet, stalled, and started again, doing a wobbly circuit around the car park.

He watched me with an uneasy smirk, scratching his head. I drove back to where he was standing.

‘What do I get?’ he said. ‘For lending you my bike? You could write my baby off. My da’ll end me.’

I could write me off. ‘I’ll try not to. Whatever you want.’

He flashed me a ludicrously suggestive grin, a grin that said I would be stripping down to my pants and licking him like a Calippo while gyrating to all his favourite whiny dirge shit. ‘Yeah?’

Whatever. ‘Yeah.’

He beamed, the gum poking out from his teeth. ‘Knew you’d come round eventually.’

A bald man in white shirtsleeves came out, hands on his hips. ‘Finbar Mackay, this is lesson time, you little shit. Get back inside.’

Finn put his hand up casually, not turning to face him. ‘Yeah, yeah, right, keep your slaphead on, old man.’

‘I’ll get it back to you later,’ I said.

The man shouted his name again in the manner of a small, vicious dog about to do serious ankle damage.

Finn put his good hand in his pocket and began to do a funny, sideways jog back to the main entrance. ‘Don’t fall off,’ he yelled back at me, waving.

Fuck, it was harder without him behind me. Hurling Lottie’s car through the glittering streets of Redhill after a couple of sneaky drinks felt way safer than being on this sack of shit. I stuttered and blurted away from the village to the head of the loch and round, trying to get the revving right. The moped took one look at the main hill and cried. I had to horsewhip its arse up there. Two guys littered shouts out of their windows at me as their car overtook me. I gave them the finger and almost came off.