‘Where are you?’ I hiss into the phone. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ His voice sounds muffled and I can hear traffic in the background. A car horn beeps and I hear Jack telling them to fuck off. It’s unlike him to be aggressive and I flinch. ‘Sorry about that,’ he says. ‘Some twat almost knocked me over.’

‘Where are you? We need to go over to Margot’s.’

‘I’m sorry. Can you meet me downstairs?’

I glance at my watch. ‘Sure. What shall I tell Ted? Can you come with me to Margot’s or shall I say you’ve rung in sick?’

‘No. It’s fine. I’m fine. Just …’ He sighs impatiently. ‘Please, I’d rather meet you outside. Okay?’

I put the phone down, puzzled. Why’s Jack being so evasive? And grumpy. He’s usually so good-natured.

I gather up my things and call to Ted that I’m off to see Margot and meeting Jack outside. Then I hurry off before he can reply.

Outside Jack is smoking and talking to Stan, who’s huddled up in the doorway beneath a blanket. He’s drinking a takeaway coffee that I suspect Jack has bought him. Stan takes his filthy cap off to me, like he does every time I see him, and grins toothlessly. He smells of stale lager. I smile back and I’m about to indulge in a bit of banter, which Stan always enjoys, when I notice Jack properly and freeze. He’s sporting the ugliest black eye I’ve ever seen. It’s so puffy and swollen that he can hardly open it. He also has a cut lip. Instantly tears spring to my eyes at the thought of anyone doing this to him.

I rush towards him. ‘What happened? Oh, Jack …’ I put my hand to his lip. ‘Who did this to you?’

He covers my hand with his. ‘I was mugged. Last night. Some fucker tried to take my camera but I fought them off – not before they gave me this, though.’ He takes his hand away to point to his face.

I frown. ‘But you were with Finn last night.’

Jack steers me away from Stan. ‘Let’s walk and talk or we’ll be late. Where’s your car?’

‘At my place.’

‘Come on, then. We’d better be quick.’

He gives the rest of his cigarette to Stan, saying it hurts his cut lip to smoke it, and we walk down Park Street, trying not to notice the occasional stare directed at Jack.

‘Where was Finn when this happened?’ I ask, as we cross the centre and head towards the Welsh Back.

He hangs his head. ‘We had a row.’

I clench my fists in anger. Bloody Finn. ‘What about?’