There weren't no good way to say Colin, mate, this is shit, you don't deserve it, but we bloody love you and we'll get through it, alright? Cos no matter how you said it his head was too full of angry buzzing to hear it.

We swung into Norton Street with our lights flashing but no siren, the standard burglary-in-progress procedure. As it was I don't think the guy would've noticed us had Constable Lenski and I pulled into the driveway of Number 38 playing Tiger Rag on trombones.

The oversized leather armchair all but swallowed Michael. The receptionist had asked him to sit in one of the plainer chairs, near the offices, but today was a day for rebellions.