Had the guy believed her when she’s told him I was her uncle? Hell, whatever – it worked. 5 minutes later I was alone at the bar, clutching the 20 she’d slipped me. “Buy some new shoes, honey,” she’d said, kissing me on the cheek and reminding me why I’d loved her once, before slipping back amongst the suited and jewelled throng heading for the dining area.

I looked along the bar – just me and some kid in a crumpled suit drinking daintily from a porcelain cup, that the barkeep was eyeing. I motioned to him with the bill, then thought better and slipped it in my inside pocket. Dammit, I would buy new shoes after all.

“H2O,” I said, feeling giddy, as the sour-faced bartender approached. “Make it a double.”

“Sir?” he replied, failing to conceal his disdain.

“Just give me a glass of water.”

He obliged, as reluctantly as if I’d ordered him to shoot his grandmother, and I sat down to watch and wait. Thinking I should start making some notes, I pulled out my notepad and flipped it open.

“Fuck off,” I read.