‘That’s Mrs Archway,’ Adzo said, pointing to the first door we passed. ‘In the ground-floor flat. She’s about a hundred years old but did get told off for disturbing the peace a few weeks ago when she had some friends over and they got a bit rowdy on the old gin. She used to be a theatre actress, and has got stories that make even me blush.’

She pressed on up a flight of stairs. I smelled spices. Somebody was cooking something scrumptious.

‘That’s Brigitte. She’s a food blogger, and likes to leave food parcels on everyone’s doorsteps because she makes so much. You’ll like her too – she just came out of a relationship with her long-term girlfriend three months ago, and is oddly well-adjusted about it, which is fascinating.’

We climbed another set of stairs.

‘And this,’ she said, putting a key in the door and turning it with ease, ‘is for you. If you want it.’

I eyed her suspiciously and headed past her and into a hallway very similar to the one downstairs: same chalky paint and knotted hessian carpet. It led to an empty bedroom to the left, and a compact bathroom to the right with a black and white tiled floor and a frosted glass window, and a tiny alcove that could probably fit a single bed and not much else.

I walked into the main part of the flat, an open-plan kitchen and living room area. At one end of the living room was a huge bay window overlooking the street, and the space was about big enough for a sofa and coffee table, maybe a tiny dining table. The kitchen was narrow but because it was connected to the living room felt spacious, too, especially with the massive windows and the lightness of the carpet and walls.

‘What is this place?’ I marvelled. ‘Why do you have a key?’

‘I know a guy who knows a guy.’ She shrugged, and I shot her a look as if to say: You’re going to have to do better than that.

‘Okay fine,’ she elaborated. ‘Remember the guy I dated who wanted to take me to the Dominican Republic over Christmas break two years ago? The one with the handlebar moustache and predilection for quoting lines from The Godfather?’

‘Oh my gosh, I do! You really liked him, didn’t you?’

She nodded.

‘I can’t even remember why you broke it off with him now.’

‘One reason was that he was a landlord of like, fifteen apartments and houses,’ she said, her eyes going wide. ‘I thought it was politically repulsive to make a living from keeping somebody else in the rental market … but that was before I had a friend who needed a rental …’

‘This is Moustache Man’s place?’

‘It is. And he’s somewhat still in love with me, so you are officially the first viewing. It’s not even with the letting agents yet.’