And you know what? James was right. Because nobody even looked at us when we walked right out into the middle of the gentleman’s club and put our trays of bird’s nests down on a big long table in the corner with all the other food. Nobody looked at us when James got hold of my jacket again and steered me in and out of the rows of tables and chairs full of gentlemen losing their money and eating their dinner. Nobody even looked when we walked straight out another set of doors on the other side, past two cranky-looking guys with black suits and bow ties and then around a corner and up some stairs. Nobody. Any minute I expected to hear someone yelling at us to stop, or freeze or even oi, you, you’re just a kid and where do you think you’re going? But nobody took any notice of us at all. Can you believe it? I couldn’t.

When we got to the top of the stairs James stopped for a second then pointed down the hallway to a door at the very end. Come on, lad, let’s go, home stretch, he goes. So we went, but of course the door was locked, because if you were a guy called Slim that ran a club that stole money off gentlemen and you tied up people and put them into tumble dryers you’d probably have stuff in your office you didn’t want anyone to see, wouldn’t you?

I started thinking maybe it could be the end of our plan and all that dressing up in a disguise and being brave had ended up being for nothing. Until the thing that happened next. Which was that James looked at me, then he looked at the door, then he looked back at me, then he looked at the top of the door. Then I looked to see what he was looking at, which was a small glass window above the door. Which was half-open. And then we looked at each other and James started smiling and even before he said anything I already knew what he was thinking because I was thinking the same. Then he goes, so, are ye game, Norman? Just like that, and ye instead of you in his Scottish accent. Isn’t that the coolest?

Well, after what we’d just done I felt like I was pretty much game for anything, so I tried out a bit of a Scottish accent myself and said, aye, James, piece of piss. I’m not sure if he noticed the accent but he goes, good man, and then straightaway started counting one, two, three. I was still trying to get myself ready when he picked me up under the arms and sort of threw me into the air, but without letting go. I missed the ledge of the window thing but James just said, nae bother, practice run, and was I ready to go again.

The second time I was ready all right, and when James lifted me up in the air I grabbed onto the ledge straightaway with both my hands and held on tight. He was still holding on to my legs with both hands, but he squeezed my feet and shouty whispered, ye wee beauty, Norman! Gaun yersel’, lad!