“They’re friends,” said Paul, posting coins into the ticket machine.

“Well,” said Ava. “They’re sort of friends. They’re about the same age and they live a couple of streets away and they have a lot of parties. They’re the kind of people we ought to be friends with. You know what I mean?”

Finn nodded sympathetically. “I’ll be good, I promise. Hey, is this a new car?”

“Six months old,” said Paul.

“It’s very shiny.”

“It gets washed every fortnight,” said Ava.

“Like me. Except when I don’t. But it’s a full moon tomorrow so I’m nice and clean for your guests.”

Ava put her arm through Finn’s affectionately.

Paul popped the boot. Finn dropped his pack in, then climbed into the back seat. Without a moment’s hesitation, Ava followed him. Paul paused, sighed, then opened the driver’s door.

“It looks completely different from the back,” said Ava in delight. “Hey, Paul, you should come and sit back here the next time we’re going somewhere.”

Paul smiled faintly at her through the rear-view mirror. “And who’s driving while we’re both sitting in the back?”

“You could train a chimpanzee to drive it for you,” said Finn. “Or use string to work the steering wheel and really long sticks to push the pedals. That would be fun.”

Paul frowned at the traffic.

“Are we in trouble?” Finn whispered.

“I think we’re okay,” Ava whispered back.

“No, we’re in trouble. Paul looks mad.”

“Paul is concentrating,” said Paul. “Carry on, kids. I don’t mind.”

“Text message from Dave Work,” announced the car.

Finn sat bolt upright. “The car’s talking to us.”

“It lets me pick up texts while I’m driving.” Paul pressed a button.

“Hey mate can we move tomorrow’s meeting to an hour later I have to drop the car at the garage pranged it on a tree lol,” said the car in a smooth transatlantic monotone.

“That’s witchcraft,” said Finn. “Will it say whatever anyone sends you?”

“Yep.”

“There is finally a point to being rich,” said Finn. “Ava, can I borrow your phone?”

Ava handed over her phone. Finn hunched happily over the screen. They drove in silence for a while.

“Do we need anything for tonight?” asked Paul as they inched along a slow queue to get through a traffic light.

Ava was staring out of the window, watching the patrons of a chic little café laugh and preen as they drank complicated coffee from colourful mugs. Two young women laughed and held hands as they walked a gigantic outsized Lurcher with a red collar. The Lurcher found a discarded McDonald’s wrapper and nosed hopefully inside. The taller of the two coaxed it away, and it yawned and pressed affectionately against her side. The women debated a moment, then one sat down at a table while the other went inside.

“Ava,” Paul said. “Are you listening?”

“What?”

“Do we need anything for tonight?”

“We’re fine.”

“We’ve got enough wine?”

“We’re fine.”

“How much have we got?”

“We’re fine.”