I walked into the city centre, and booked a one-way flight to London for the following day. The travel agent said, ‘Are you sure you won’t be coming back in the next three months?’ and I answered, in a confident voice which pleased me, ‘No. Definitely not.’ There was something clean and precise about a one-way flight. It was a straight arrow flying into the future, the big maze of the metropolis.

I would go round to my house late that night, in a minicab, say my goodbyes to Phyllis and write a letter for her to give to Titch. Then I would pack my two suitcases and retrieve the bit of money I had stashed away for an emergency. Very early in the morning I would leave my house, once again using a minicab which would take me to the airport. I would worry about what happened in London only once I was en route. The minicab company I’d use would be from the other side of town.

The cumulative effect of these decisions was to make my heart beat faster and my head lighten, as though I was in love. And I was. I was in love with the idea of getting away.

Mrs Murdie gave me a kiss and a slightly tearful hug goodbye. Gavin gave me a handshake which managed to be both clammy and a real bonecrusher, and said ‘Bon Voyage’. I bet he was pleased I was going. Murdie said gruffly, ‘Goodbye, son, don’t forget to write,’ and then shoved two hundred pounds in twenty-pound notes into my back pocket. I tried to give him some back, but he danced away neatly, frowning and making angry gestures of refusal.

He wanted me to pick up my stuff while the minicab waited, and come straight to his house before leaving for London, but I wouldn’t. It was late enough anyway.

‘Let’s not get it out of proportion, Murdie, McGee isn’t bloody Don Corleone,’ I said.

Murdie shook his head in despair at me. Then he said, ‘Right again, boy genius. Don Corleone is probably more forgiving.’

The truth was, I wanted to calm Phyllis down before I went, and I didn’t want to have a taxi driver tapping his fingers on the dashboard outside while I mulled over which things to take with me. It would have made me nervous.

11

It was just off midnight, and dark, when the cab pulled up outside my house. There was a light on in our front room. I paid the driver and got out.

The night was still and dry, and our street was quiet. But I had the feeling that someone was watching me. I looked around. There was a figure sitting on the wall opposite the house, wearing a jacket with a hood. The face was half turned away.