We watch the men for another three circuits, though I don’t risk another call. Papa knows I’m here. The guard blows on a whistle and the men break the dreary circle and start to trudge towards the low buildings. Tears sting my eyes. It’s our cue to leave.

Back out on the streets, Bit clears his throat. “They don’t look as if they’re building underground tunnels.”

“No.” I snort. “That’s because they’re not.”

* * *

That friend of Jorzy’s, the man with the moustache, comes with me one morning along the river to scope out the Director’s property. They don’t tell me anything, but I sense their plans are firming up. As we walk briskly along the towpath in the dark I wonder why Moustache isn’t in one of the wild camps like my father. Maybe he’s disabled in some way, or has a special skill that the Travesters find useful. Cerels are good at working metal, so it could be that. Unless he’s in one of the Cerel gangs who are sent up the House of Law by rope and pulley to polish the glass dome; a risky job that no Travester would do.

It’s a bit unnerving having this bloke with me. I’ve got a reason to be on the towpath – Boss has given me a piece of paper, stating where I’m working and that I’ve got permission to be in this area every day – yet Jorzy’s friend hasn’t got anything like that. Moustache has brought along a chimney brush, which he carries over his shoulder, and whistles quietly between his teeth as if he too has a right to be here. As Cerels are the only ones who clean chimneys, it’s pretty safe to walk through the city carrying such brooms. The sun hasn’t come up yet, but even so, there are other workers who use this path. I’m just relieved that we’re unlikely to bump into Boss. It would be difficult to explain Moustache.

“So is anything happening about the restaurant?” I ask, wanting to see if I can tease some information out of him. Jorzy sure as hell doesn’t confide in me.

“Maybe,” says Moustache.

“’Cause, y’know, it’d be a great place to take him out.”

He snorts. “What would you know about taking people out?”

“I know enough.”

“It’s not something to talk about like this, in public,” he says gruffly, making me feel ignorant.