The gatekeeper looked surprised. He held up his book, which had a blank cover. Blue, tatty, like an ancient library book. Sefton had wondered if there was a list of people inside it, to go with the gesture and the ability to see what you were walking down. To get a look at that list might be valuable. He plucked the book out of the man’s hands and opened it. He could feel beardy waistcoat behind him, going with it, craning to look at what was revealed inside these pages. Sefton realized, in that second, that he’d already handled books that could have done him considerable harm, that he’d just been unprofessionally reckless. That was where playing this character had led him. No, there was nothing inside this book to harm him. Indeed, there was nothing. The fine dusty pages were blank. Genuinely blank. It was just a prop, something to shore up this man’s authority. If there were rules, they weren’t written down. Sefton flicked all the way through to make sure, then he gave it back to the man, who was now smiling patronizingly at him. ‘Thanks,’ said Sefton, ‘didn’t like the ending.’ The look on the man’s face said that Sefton had really pushed it, that now it would be touch and go whether to let him in. Finally, the man made the gesture and Sefton bounced his silent question away and he was allowed to proceed.

He was about to go down the stairs, but from behind him came an odd, awkward laugh. ‘A book of rules?’ It was beardy waistcoat, looking baffled at Sefton. ‘I could see they’re written in a very tight hand, but I didn’t get a good look at a single one of them. What was that you said about the ending? Come on, did you see how to do this?’

The gatekeeper looked despairingly at the young man. He didn’t even bother to make the gesture. He just slowly shook his head.

‘Oh, come on, this isn’t fair. Tonight we were told we were going to be allowed…’ Beardy waistcoat looked pleadingly to Sefton, who could only look steadily back in return. Anger made the young man’s face suddenly flush. The oppressed minority he’d thought he was doing a favour to had progressed further than he had. ‘I’ve worked so hard…’

The gatekeeper looked towards the diffuse, impatient queue that was standing all around, and by implication to the bouncer, who was even now sauntering over.

Beardy gave Sefton a look that could kill. A look like a mask falling that Sefton felt he would remember for a long time. Then he was pushing his way back through the crowd, heading for the door.

Sefton turned and calmly walked down the stairs.

*   *   *