‘Such manners!’ said Eric’s wife, looking up at the latest player in the farce. ‘I don’t know what they teach you in your part of the world, but here in England—’

‘You shut your mouth, old woman! Bloody old people saying the black man pushed him. It always the black man, ain’t it? Never the white man!’

‘And I didn’t touch him anyway!’ said the accused, looking mortified by the accusation. ‘Why would I?’

‘Of course you didn’t,’ said another woman, who was standing near by and carrying an enormous Mamas & Papas bag before her like a shield. ‘He’s just gone a bit doolally, that’s all. We all have, with the heat.’

‘Dozy bitch,’ said Eric, pulling himself to his feet.

‘Who you callin’ a dozy bitch?’ she asked.

‘Me, most likely,’ said Eric’s wife. ‘It’s one of his many terms of endearment. Now look, you,’ she added, turning back to Nelson. ‘What do you think? Does he need to go to hospital?’

‘I’d have to do a full examination, to be sure,’ he said. ‘And I don’t think that would be possible down here.’

‘So you’re just going to let him carry on as if nothing’s happened? What if he drops dead in thirty minutes, who should I blame then?’

‘I’m happy to help,’ protested Nelson. ‘It’s just that this is such an enclosed space, which makes things difficult.’

From down the tunnel, the sound of a train approaching could be heard and the crowd adjusted itself instantly, the medical emergency taking second place in importance to continuing their journey. The noise grew louder and Nelson watched as the lights began to illuminate the back wall and then, to his delight, he saw a pair of paramedics making their way down the steps towards him. Of course, everything was captured on CCTV these days. The moment the man had fallen over, someone in a room upstairs had probably despatched them. He breathed an enormous sigh of relief, knowing he wouldn’t have to touch Eric again.

‘I’m sorry, I have to go,’ he said, turning to the couple. ‘But these two men are here to help you now.’

Eric’s wife looked aggrieved but, when she saw the paramedics approaching, she transferred her attention to them while Nelson scuttled back down the platform, returning to his original spot just as the train arrived and the doors opened.

Once on board, he managed to find an empty seat just as his phone buzzed again. He took it out of his pocket and read the message:

Beverley Cleverley

Do u think they like After Eights?

ROUND EARTHERS

The conversation in the wine bar haunted George throughout the rest of the afternoon, which he spent in his office at the BBC with his producer, Ben Bimbaum, whose full name George always struggled to pronounce. In his left hand, he held the solitary balloon that remained from a sixtieth-birthday celebration the production team had thrown for him a few days earlier and, as he stared at it, the silver numbers glared back from the lurid pink foil, distorting his image and turning him into a bug-eyed monster.