“Is this the ChronoGuard thing?” came a voice from the door. I turned and saw a moody-looking teenager with oily hair and a black eye. He looked as though he had just lost an argument about something and was plotting payback. More significantly, he was the one who had paid fifty p to see Tuesday’s boobs and more recently offered her a fiver for sex. He was also due to be murdered on Friday. It was Gavin Watkins. I didn’t want to be judgmental, despite his offer earlier to Tuesday, so instead I used that mildly condescending voice you reserve for acquaintances of your children. “You’re a friend of Tuesday’s aren’t you?”

“Not really friends,” he replied. “Our relationship is based more on a . . . business footing.”

I narrowed my eyes at his impertinence, my patience rapidly vanishing. “Is it, now? Listen, Gavin, I’m not so sure offering cash for sex is really appropriate behavior.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s disrespectful, insulting, and . . . she’s not that kind of girl.”

“This is what happened,” he said. “I asked her if theoretically speaking she would sleep with me for four point three million pounds, and she said she theoretically would, so then I asked her if she’d accept a fiver. So she is definitely that kind of girl. All we’re doing is discussing the price.”

I stared at him.

“Oh, c’mon,” he added with a sneer, “are you really going to stand there and tell me you haven’t sold yourself at least once? If not for cash, then certainly for influence.”

“You’re a nasty piece of work, aren’t you?” I said, although privately admitting that he was right. A long time ago, but he was right.

“Apologize, Gavin,” said Friday, who had heard enough. “You just crossed the line.”

“I wasn’t the one who drew the line,” he said in a low, controlled voice, “but I’m only telling the truth. Both your mother and sister are—”

“Don’t say it! I swear to God I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” said Gavin, taking a step closer so they were almost nose to nose. “Kill me?”

Friday took a step back, firmly rattled. He was going to kill Gavin, but not over name-calling. I hoped.

“Lost your appetite for a fight?” sneered Gavin.

“Okay, okay,” I said, before this got any more out of hand.

“Time out. Friday, cool it. And, Gavin, there’s tea and coffee and Kool-Aid on the side and some biscuits. You can help yourself.”

“Nothing stronger?” he asked.

“You could always not dilute the Kool-Aid, big guy.” He grunted and moved off.

“I kill him because he insulted my mother and sister?” said Friday as soon as Gavin was out of earshot. “No, that’s just crazy.”

“You don’t kill him until Friday,” I said. “A lot of time for stuff to happen—or not.”

“Everything all right?” asked Shazza as she walked up.