We looked at one another. Barky pulled open his own front door onto the landing, and his upstairs neighbour brushed past.

‘Two fancy gents going at it down the road, would you believe it? I just saw it out the window – I can’t think what this neighbourhood is coming to.’

‘What do they look like?’ I asked.

‘Get back, Zillah!’ Barky said, but it was too late. The neighbour’s face made an ‘o’ of shock to see me and I cursed myself for my stupidity. Barky had helped me so much and the one thing he had asked was that I keep a low profile. I would not have exposed him like this for the world. Especially if Crillick had goons going round asking questions about any sightings of a Black girl. The neighbour hurried on, but as she went she cast a look back over her shoulder. I’d put us both in danger.

‘Barky, I’m so sorry.’

‘That’ll be all around town tomorrow,’ he said.

His voice was flat; he sounded tired. I couldn’t blame him for being worried.

‘You’d better get out of here. If Crillick did follow Vincent and they’re fighting now, this will be your best chance to get away.’

‘But what about—’

‘Go, Zillah. Above all else you’ve got to keep safe.’

I pulled on my scarf and coat and hurried out of the door. There wasn’t time for goodbyes.

A ring of people had formed in the middle of the street. Others leant out of their windows and shouted encouragement. Lamb’s Conduit Street may have been a respectable thoroughfare but that didn’t mean its residents didn’t enjoy a good brawl now and again. My best chance of getting away quickly was to get to High Holborn. It meant weaving through the onlookers but I had to hope they wouldn’t notice me flee if they were fighting. Please let Vincent be all right, I prayed as I worked my way through the crowd. I’d been angry and sharp with him today but he’d only sought to protect me and if he was fighting now it was for my sake.

Vincent and Crillick were going at it hard. I heard the grunts but couldn’t see them until the crowd shifted. The action had turned and all of a sudden I found myself close to the front. What I saw was a complete shock to me. Vincent’s opponent wasn’t Crillick at all. It was Lucien.

‘What are you doing?’ I cried.

At the sound of my voice, Vincent looked up.

‘Vincent, be careful,’ I shouted, and in that moment Lucien landed a punch to his face. Sensing a new twist in the drama, the crowd quieted and looked from me to Vincent to Lucien. The two men were breathing heavily. Vincent’s eye was swelling and Lucien’s lip was cut.