‘Not much chance of a big Christmas get-together, then?’ muttered Liam.

Maddy snorted drink on to the table, relieved that he’d found a way to break the sombre mood.

‘At least,’ said Sal, ‘we’ll have a brand-new Bob to protect us soon.’

‘Aye. I miss the big ape.’

Maddy pointed to the bank of computer monitors. ‘He’s just there!’

‘Naw,’ said Liam, wrinkling his nose, ‘it’s not quite the same him being in there.’

‘You can’t exactly hug a computer monitor,’ said Sal.

Liam chuckled. ‘Quite right. I miss his tufty round coconut head.’

‘And that dumb, total blip-head expression on his face,’ added Sal.

‘Aye.’

Maddy finished a mouthful of curry. ‘Well, we’ll have him around soon. Foster’s “how to” manual says the growth cycle should take about one hundred hours.’ She pushed her glasses up her nose. ‘Lemmesee… that’s just over four days.’

‘We’ll need some new clothes for him,’ said Sal. ‘I’ll see what I can find for him downtown tomorrow.’

Maddy nodded. ‘Good idea.’

They finished the Indian takeaway and bagged up the rubbish. Liam volunteered to take it out as the girls changed for bed. He crossed the archway floor, criss-crossed with snaking power cables, and lifted the front shutter enough to duck under and step out into their backstreet.

A flickering blue light dimly lit the street. Above him, bright halogen floodlights illuminated the thick metal spars of the Williamsburg Bridge arcing across the flat docile water of the Hudson River. On the far side — a sight he was still yet to get used to — was Manhattan, a vibrant inverted crystal chandelier of winking city lights and nudging traffic.

He dropped the bag into the trash can, and sucked in the cool night air.

Tonight all was well with the world. Tomorrow was the day planes crashed into buildings and the sky was a dark smudge all of the day.