What was going on with Anya? What was she playing at? And the worst one of all: was she leaving me?

A terrible foreboding settled on me then like a great weight and I checked my phone, pointlessly. I couldn’t stop myself from ringing her again, then again, but it kept going to voicemail. I jabbed out a message, just to give myself something to do with all the pent-up feelings.

Where RU? Call me.

No ‘x’ now. It wasn’t the time for kisses. The humiliation of not knowing where she was still cut. I tried not to remember the pity on Todd’s face. I was angry at myself now that my first instinct had been to worry about getting her into trouble over her lie. If she was going to cut me out like this, what the hell did she expect? I never even found out who this mythical dead relative was, I thought bitterly.

I looked up, barely aware of my surroundings, to see that I had made my way back towards Angel and Upper Street. I had no idea what to do with myself as I stood by the entrance to the tube station, throngs of purposeful people passing me. I felt entirely lost. I didn’t really belong here any more. And I didn’t want to go home.

It felt as though my muscles made the decision before my brain as I began to walk back to the crossing and over the main road at the lights.

I walked quickly down Upper Street, hands in my pockets and my gaze cast down, heading for Holloway Road.

Towards, I guess, home. Maybe I never really left.

ELLIOTT

Mrs Mack’s money felt like something radioactive, pulsing out signals from the pocket of my jeans. Dirty little thief … I could almost picture Mrs Mack hissing the words in her crisp, Scottish accent.

When she went to the toilet, I had the opportunity to run back into her room and return the cash. But even though my heart seemed to throb with fear and guilt, I didn’t do it.

I didn’t move.

If I’d only had the guts, it would have saved her life.

I mumbled excuses to go, the scones like rocks in my guts, and headed towards the shop on the estate.

Despite the bars on the windows and the baseball bat that Mr Ghosh, the owner, kept under the counter, Minimart Food and Wine was regularly robbed.

I’d done it myself on a small scale.