JJ

I know I'd had that bonding moment with Maureen when she'd smacked Chas, but to tell you the truth I was working on the assumption that if we all made it through to breakfast time, then my new band would split up due to musical differences. Breakfast time would mean that we'd made it through to a new dawn, new hope, a new year, tra la la. And no offense meant, but I really didn't want to be seen in daylight with these people, if you know what I mean - especially with… some of 'em. But breakfast and daylight were still a couple of hours away, so it felt to me like I had no real choice but to go with them back to Martin's place. To do anything else would have been mean and unfriendly, and I still didn't trust myself to spend too much time on my own.

Martin lived in a little villagey part of Islington, right around the corner from Tony Blair's old house, and really not the kind of 'hood you'd choose if you'd fallen on hard times, as Martin was supposed to have done. He paid the cab fare, and we followed him up the front steps to his house. I could see three or four front-door bells, so I could tell it wasn't all his, but I couldn't have afforded to live there.

Before he put his key in the lock, he paused and turned around.

'Listen,' he said, and then he didn't say anything, so we listened.

'I don't hear anything,' said Jess.

'No, I didn't mean that sort of listen. I meant, Listen, I'm going to tell you something.'

'Go on, then,' said Jess. 'Spit it out.'

'It's very late. So just… be respectful of the neighbours.'

'That's it?'

'No.' He took a deep breath. 'There'll probably be someone in there.'

'In your flat?'

'Yes.'

'Who?'

'I don't know what you'd call her. My date. Whatever.'

'You had a date for the evening?' I tried to keep my voice in neutral, but, you know, Jesus… What kind of evening had she had? One moment you're sitting in a club or whatever, the next he's disappeared because he wants to jump off a building.

'Yes. What of it?'

'Nothing. Just…' There was no need to say any more. We could leave the rest to the imagination.

'Fucking hell,' said Jess. 'What kind of date ends up with you sitting on the fucking ledge of a tower-block?'

'An unsuccessful one,' said Martin.

'I should think it was fucking unsuccessful,' said Jess.

'Yes,' said Martin. 'That's why I described it as such.'

He opened the door to his flat and ushered us in ahead of him; so we saw the girl sitting on the sofa a moment before he did. She was maybe ten or fifteen years younger than him, and pretty, in a kind of bimbo TV weather-girl way; she was wearing an expensive-looking black dress, and she'd been crying a whole lot. She stared at us, and then at him.

'Where have you been?' She was trying to keep it light, but she couldn't quite pull it off.

'Just out. Met some…' He gestured at us.

'Met some who?'

'You know. People.'

'And that's why you left in the middle of the evening?'

'No. I didn't know I was going to run into this crowd when I left.'

'And which crowd are they?' said the girl.

I wanted to hear Martin answer the question, because it might have been funny, but Jess interrupted.

'You're Penny Chambers,' said Jess.

She............