Stevie Nicks was singing mournfully about players only loving you when they’re playing as I came round. My head felt like it might actually split in two, and I was lying half in, half out of Seb’s car, my own blood running into my mouth, and Seb was pulling me onto the ground, grunting with exertion. And I knew I’d blown it; I’d had my last chance to escape.

‘What are you going to do?’ I mumbled, and I was in real pain; my lips were cracked and my voice was tiny. Seb didn’t answer, just stared at me like he couldn’t focus and switched the radio off before stepping away to retrieve something.

And then I saw he had a can of petrol from the boot, and he reached forward and delved in my jeans pocket and I flinched from his touch.

‘Dirty habit, smoking,’ he said, eventually finding a lighter in my cardigan pocket. ‘You should’ve known it’d kill you in the end.’

I watched horrified and literally unable to move as he splashed petrol around the car.

‘They’ll think it was a terrible accident,’ he said. ‘Poor Maggie. Such a tragedy. So much promise, blah, blah, blah. Such a manipulative bitch, blah, blah, blah. You really were the original gilded lily, weren’t you?’ He smiled at his own wit.

‘Please, Seb,’ I implored desperately. ‘Please don’t do this.’

‘Shut up,’ he snapped, concentrating on the task in hand. ‘It’s too late, Maggie. Too late for you, anyway.’

‘Please don’t,’ I pleaded piteously. ‘What did I ever do to you, Seb? I don’t understand, I really don’t.’

‘You should have left us alone. We were happy, you know. Until you came along.’

‘Who?’ I croaked. ‘Who’s we, for God’s sake?’

‘The only positive thing I can say about you is’, he glanced at me, pushing his unruly hair out of his eyes with his forearm, ‘at least you weren’t a bad shag. When you weren’t too pissed, that is, Maggie-may-I, Maggie-yes-you-may, Maggie-I’ll-just-roll-over-and-let-you-do-whatever-you-want.’ He threw the empty petrol can aside and lit the lighter. I stared transfixed at the flame. ‘Nice knowing you, bitch,’ he said. ‘Ta-ta for now.’

And then someone blew that flame right out.

‘That’s not very original now, is it, mate,’ a familiar voice scolded from the gloom. ‘I think Hannibal Lecter might have said it first.’ The next moment a bewildered Seb lay crumpled on the ground as Alex emerged from the shadows, looking a little surprised himself, the poker in his hand.

‘Blimey. That packs a punch.’ He shoved Seb with a mud-flecked boot. ‘I hope the bastard’s still breathing. I don’t fancy doing time for him, you know.’

‘What are you doing here?’ I gazed up at him in bemusement. ‘Have you come to punish me too?’ I croaked, before passing out.