Sefton didn’t know how to answer him. Here was a surprise: beardy waistcoat was someone Privileged, who knew how to at least make a start at using the occult power of London, or so he’d indicated, but who wasn’t himself one of the Sighted. Seeing that look on Sefton’s face, he looked suddenly crestfallen. ‘I know you’re able to – I can tell when someone can; I mean, I pick up on the body language—’

‘Mate, I’m just learning about this stuff too—’

‘But there’s nothing to stop me trying to go down there, is there? To support you, if nothing else. Whether or not change is coming to the Goat tonight, we ought to be allowed access to … whatever that man is guarding. Come on, we succeed or fail together.’ Suddenly he was off, taking his place in the actual queue which was now forming out of the vague one, and Sefton could only feel he should go with him. The abusive woman had just gone down the stairs, and in front of them now was one of the angrier-looking young men of the hipster crowd. The man with the book invited him to step forward, making that checking gesture again with one hand. The youth did so, and walked straight over the top of the stairwell, his feet walking on what looked to Sefton like empty air, keeping going until he’d covered the space to the far wall. Then, furious, he whirled, looking back at the gatekeeper.

Who stared calmly back at him.

The bouncer took a concerned step from his corner.

After a moment of considering his options, the young man turned on his heel and marched for the door. The gatekeeper looked back to Sefton and beardy waistcoat, and visibly sighed when he saw Sefton. Here came more trouble.

Sefton’s instinct as an undercover was to avoid confrontation. He really should just walk forward, deal with the man’s gesture, get down the stairs, if being able to block the gesture and see the stairs was enough, if there wasn’t actually full-on apartheid in place. But in character – maybe in reality too – he didn’t feel like being allowed to go anywhere.

‘What are you reading?’ he asked the man. His first question of the night. Actually it was more of a challenge.