She leant her head so close to him that I couldn’t hear her reply, but he bent under the counter and fetched her a packet of cigarettes. Realising that it would look more than a little strange to be standing in this shop without buying anything, particularly with a baby, even if she was transfixed by the light show, I grabbed a bottle of wine. Sidling up as if queuing to pay, I tried to act as though it was a total coincidence me being here, rather than following the woman in immediately after she’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk to me.

‘So,’ I said, going for bright and breezy but ending up more along the lines of potentially-inebriated-while-in-charge-of-a-baby. ‘Lovely day. I mean, for this time of year. Well. Not really a lovely day, but at least it isn’t raining! I mean, that storm the other day – phew!’

While I was jabbering on, the woman had paid for her cigarettes and turned to go, head still ducked like an armed robber avoiding the CCTV. I took a slight step to the right to block her path, and before she could object gabbled, ‘Anyway, so the bridge seems to be blocked off. What’s the best way to get across the river?’

The woman froze, eyes swivelling from side to side as if she was preparing to brandish a weapon and demand the contents of the till.

‘I just needed some cigarettes!’ she blurted. ‘The Co-op’s run out of Jase’s brand and I didn’t have time to go anywhere else. I’m not sticking around.’

‘Wait, are you…?’ the man asked, his eyebrows shooting up into his cap. ‘I mean, I’m an open-minded fella. The bank doesn’t discriminate against the source of my poundage, after all. But I thought you must be from Middlebeck or summat. We don’t serve traitors and scabs or their scabby women in ’ere.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Better get back where you belong before I offer you a refund on them cigs.’

‘I know, I’m sorry. I’m leaving now!’ And with that, she pushed past me and fled. Utterly baffled, I dumped the wine on the nearest shelf and reversed the pushchair back out the door as fast as I could drag it.

‘You one o’ them too, are you?’ the shop assistant called after me. ‘Didn’t you see the sign in the window? No kids and no New Siders.’

By the time I’d manoeuvred the pushchair through the heavy door, the woman was scuttling back down Old Main Street. I ran after her, Hope’s wheels skidding on the damp pavement.

‘Hello!’ I called. ‘Hey! Can you please stop for a moment!’

To my surprise she did, although that turned out to be because her car was parked there. I upped my speed and reached her just as she wrenched the door open. ‘Please! I’m not out to have a go at you. If it makes you feel better, that guy just refused to serve me,’ I gasped.