Ross made a decision based on what she’d seen at the New Age fair. ‘Not with money.’

‘Good. Were they upstairs already? Are they going to come down here?’

‘Who?’

‘Well, that’s even better, you going the right way about things without knowing what’s going on. All right, what have you got to offer?’

What had the fortune-teller at the New Age fair lost? Fingers, teeth … ‘Blood?’

The woman laughed. ‘Bit much, my dear. Never met anyone before who opened with that. Tell you what, I’ll start a slate for you, and eventually you can make a donation. Blimey, I can’t get over it, a first-timer who actually wants to follow the form. You came here wanting something, I take it?’

Did she know?

The barmaid obviously read the expression on her face. ‘I haven’t just rifled through your drawers, love. It’s why most people come here.’

*   *   *

Sefton followed the abusive young woman to a group of people seemingly familiar to her, hoping they’d take him for an acquaintance of hers and that would give him a way in. But the woman looked sidelong at him as soon as he got there, like a bird of prey needing to alter the angle of its vision to get perspective on its target. Perhaps, Sefton thought nervously, that was exactly what she was doing. He was among power, of varying degrees, and who knew who was hiding theirs? The users of it were all looking at him, and at Costain, now he turned to look, as if the two of them were a terrible development. He should think of this lot, as he did when he was in a gang, as being armed and dangerous. ‘Fucking poser jacket,’ said the abusive woman, actually raising her voice so he’d be sure to hear. ‘How did you get down here, when you look like a complete fuckwit?’

Sefton was too intrigued now to get in her face again. Besides, a character shouldn’t be one note. Her straightforward aggression was a relief after the chill coming from the rest of this lot. Also, she’d chosen a non-racial approach this time. Presumably she’d exhausted that material. ‘I’m a complete fuckwit.’

Sudden mocking laughter erupted from behind Sefton. It sounded almost like a voice saying ‘ha ha ha’, in an extraordinarily cynical, almost self-critical way. ‘At least someone here knows themselves.’