‘Yank accent – jeez, another one.’

He said, ‘The way I see it – he looks like me. Am I right?’

Took a hit of the coke and it was sweet, I’ll give it that, even the ice.

‘Might I sit down – I’m Cassie’s brother.’

I finished the food, pushed the debris away, said, ‘You’re here for the shoplifting, I believe the season’s started.’

‘I need your help.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Let’s call me David.’

‘Wot – all of us?’

‘Mr Cooper – oh yes, I know who you are. You may be the only one who can help her.’

‘Sorry pal, I’m up to me arse in aggravation, plus – no offence but that lady’s beyond help.’

‘No no no! She’s obsessed with you and you can use that to persuade her to return home. We can get treatment.’

‘Hey David, you deaf or just stupid. I said – I didn’t say – hey maybe we’ve room to negotiate.’

‘I know where you’re coming from Mr Cooper. But it’s not a choice thing, she’s volatile and, OK, I’m going to play straight with you. I believe she may have pushed a woman under a train in New York.’

‘What… jeez… Laura…’

‘Laura? Who’s that? The woman was my fiancée. Cassie doesn’t like people close to her – loved ones – she doesn’t share.’

I couldn’t take it in. What was running through my mind was this family who looked like stars – Letterman and Sarah Miles. I asked, ‘Who do yer parents resemble – Bogie and Bacall?’

And he laughed. ‘They’re Mom and Pop Diner, Mr and Mrs Ordinary, Citizens of Nerd City. You getting this?’

The door of the restaurant was kicked in, the three Yahoos came dribblin’. In their late twenties, they’d the uniform of denim jackets, combat trousers, scarves and filthy trainers. If grunge was gone, they hadn’t heard. The personification of the urban hooligan to be found on every High Street, more common than litter and as nasty as tax. Intimidation is the party tune. Amid guffaws, obscenities and horseplay, they collected their grub and sprawled at the table next to us.