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I stamped my feet to bring some warmth back and watched the teenagers disappearing into a bar some way up the road. I let out a long sigh that escaped as steam through my collar. Six years ago, Andrew Black sent Sophie Almonds over a cliff, and it was clear that she’d never forgive him for it. The sheer force of her reaction took me by surprise though. And what she’d said about my looking for reassurance from her, that took me by surprise too. Was I really looking for permission to contact him? I didn’t know. When I asked myself that question, I got nothing back but the vague mental image of wading through a patch of brambles. The brambles had no malicious intent as far as I could tell – no hint of Sophie’s raccoon trap – they were just brambles, but it was a dense and thorny tangle nonetheless. And once in, the image seemed to be saying, you might not find it so easy to get yourself back out.

I sucked air in through my collar and fixed my attention on the hypnotic, endless parade of headlights travelling along the road towards me. Before long, a bus rounded the corner at the far end of the street, and I joined the shuffling, rain-glittered queue forming to meet it.