A week after that he was seen by Mrs Biggs in the supermarket.

And now, because this was the other place in the world he could go to, and be welcomed with a smile, he made himself cross the tiny street, past Super Universal Cabs, and go up those stairs. The door was closed. He had learned about knocking, because she might have someone else there, but now he let out a shout, like a bull's bellow, and at once the door opened and she pulled him in, slamming the door and locking it.

Rita had been angry with Johnston for sending Ben off. She had reminded him that their agreement was that she would please herself with her customers. The amounts of money she had given Ben were peanuts, nothing compared to what she earned in a day. If that ever happened again — then he should watch out. Johnston knew this was no useless threat. Johnston did not deal only in minicabs, and she knew what he got up to — or thought she did. One word from her to the police — the worst that could happen to her was a fine, and anyway, the police knew about her. She had customers among them. Johnston trusted her, had told her much more than was prudent. Rita, if not the proverbial tart with a heart of gold, was sensible, shrewd, affectionate, and gave him good advice.

Within a minute of arriving in Rita's room, they were at it, and he was like a starved thing. Then, remembering her demands, at once did it again so that she could get her pleasure. And then she said, falling on the bed and pulling him down, 'Where have you been, Ben?'

'He said I shouldn't come here.'

'But I say you can. In the mornings.'

It all started again. He came every morning, and she gave him enough money to eat, and Johnston cross-examined her. 'Why do you like him, Reet? I don't get it.'