We managed to get new tyres on the van. Well, one new tyre. All £15 worth of it. I tried my best to sound like I knew what I was talking about when I visited Zak's Tyres on Ferndale Road in Brixton - after all, I was a man, with a white van, and had it on good authority that the two front tyres were bald to the point of illegality.

This is what I nonchalantly told the 16 year old kid when he asked "what can I do for you boss?". Well, I failed to mention that I'd no idea what I was talking about and was trusting one of Justyna's work colleagues' assessment. "Front two tyres need replacing, not sure about the back two".

"Oh yeah? What's wrong with this one then?", he asked, prodding the front left tyre with his foot.

"Err, nothing. Is there? You tell me"

"Nah, it's fine mate - you only need one on the front right."

"Oh. Thank you for your honesty, young man. I'm going to leave now so you can't see me turn red, and let you get about your masculine business".

Without wishing to spoil any potential cliff-hangers, not only did our second hand tyre last the whole way to Gloucestershire and back that weekend - it is, for all I know, still attached to Genghis as he cruises the mean streets of UB. Not bad value for money.