‘That’s true, but I got a really positive sense of you from them.’

‘As did I with you. Is that right? It sounds ungrammatical. Sorry, I’m a little nervous. I wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good idea.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, it is a little unorthodox.’

‘I suppose.’

‘But as the day wore on, my bad angel began shouting down my good angel, and before I knew it, I was standing at the bar ordering a drink.’

Achilles nodded, slightly concerned by the man’s use of the word angel. Was he some sort of religious nut, intent on saving his soul in time for the Rapture? If so, this might not work out as planned.

‘Did you come far?’ asked Jeremy after an awkward silence.

‘You sound like the Queen. Isn’t that what she asks everyone?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ he replied, laughing.

‘You wouldn’t like it down my way. This is much better than I’m used to.’ Achilles looked around innocently, as if he’d never been in a building with a roof before, let alone in a room with tables and chairs.

‘It’s private, too, which I thought was important. We don’t need everyone knowing our business, do we?’

Achilles glanced at the man’s pint before looking back up pointedly.

‘Oh yes, can I get you a drink?’ asked Jeremy.

‘I’ll have a rum and Coke,’ said Achilles. ‘And you might need this,’ he added, handing across his fake ID, which added ten extra months to his age and carried his fake name. ‘Just in case they look over and think I’m not eighteen.’

‘You are eighteen, though, aren’t you?’ asked Jeremy.

‘It says so on the card,’ replied Achilles. ‘So I must be, mustn’t I?’

Jeremy smiled and stared at it for a few moments. Achilles remained silent, watching as a cloud of hesitation passed across the man’s face. Once or twice in the past, one of his marks had chosen this moment to make an early escape and he’d never heard from them again. But more often than not, desire took a lead pipe to the man’s conscience, beating it senseless and leaving it on life support.

‘Well, yes,’ said Jeremy finally. ‘Rum and Coke it is, then,’ he muttered, walking away, and as he made his way to the bar, Achilles glanced around at the old men dotted around the room, staring wordlessly into their pints. The place was creepy as fuck, he decided, but at least there was absolutely no chance of running into anyone from school. No one he knew would be seen dead in a place like this. Behind the bar, a woman standing with an elbow on one of the pumps studied the boy’s ID before looking in his direction, and he gave her his most charming smile, the one that rarely failed him, and he watched as she handed the card back to Jeremy and turned around to reach for a bottle of Captain Morgan. A younger girl wearing a low-cut top and too much make-up passed by, carrying a tray of empties, and glanced at him.