Wandering past the Almeida, side by side, like they were friends in real life. Higson had a white paper bag, which given the location and the improbability that he was out seeking a crafty afternoon kebab suggests a bite to eat at Ottolenghi. There is a certain odd couple quality to them, Whitehouse slightly brash and London; Higson diffident, quiet, very well-spoken. Both smartly dressed and not short a bob either.

Spotting them together must be extra points. Weird trivia: I am one of twenty people who have actually read Higson’s novel Full Whack. It is gruesome in parts, strange in others and is the only book I have read that features a dash along the M4 through Wales during which all narrative momentum is lost.