It was his refusal to take me seriously that had enraged me. Once we’d changed my tyre, Paul and I had driven our respective vans back to Nick’s place and I had told him everything. First of all, he pretended he didn’t believe me, as if I’d imagined the whole thing.

‘What they do on Dartmoor?’ he asked. ‘They go back to London.’

‘Perhaps they were stopping off to visit some of their nice friends in prison,’ I suggested sarcastically. ‘I don’t know! All I know is, they stopped when they saw my van.’

‘They would not hurt you, Juno,’ he kept saying.

‘Vlad had a knife!’ I told him furiously. ‘He’d slashed my tyre so I couldn’t get away.’

‘They just want to frighten you … You make them look small … They want teach you lesson …’

‘Oh, that’s all right, then! They might have stopped short of stabbing me. They might have been content with beating me up and raping me, or perhaps just carving their initials on my face.’

‘No, no … Juno,’ he said soothingly. ‘They not do that.’ He tried to take my hand and pat it, patronising old bastard, but I snatched it away.

‘You told me …’ I spoke softly but my voice trembled with rage, ‘… when I wanted to ring the police, that day when those two were here threatening you … you said that if I rang the police, things could get very bad.’

He didn’t have an answer to that and I just nodded. ‘I’m out of here! Bye, Nick.’

‘But Juno, wait!’ he called out as I thumped angrily down the stairs.

Paul caught up with me as I stood out in the alley, taking deep breaths. ‘Look, he really is shocked and frightened about what happened to you today. He just doesn’t want to admit it, that’s all.’

‘He’s talking as if I’m making it all up!’ I said furiously.

Paul risked a smile. ‘Why don’t we go and get a drink?’

‘That’s the best idea I’ve heard today,’ I told him, and we walked down to The Silent Whistle.

‘So, what happened this morning?’ I demanded crossly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were setting this meeting up?’

Paul looked a little sheepish. ‘We didn’t think it was a good idea to involve you,’ he confessed.

‘Oh, really?’ I tossed back a drink. I don’t usually drink double brandies but I reckoned I deserved one. ‘Quite ironic in the circumstances, don’t you think?’ I croaked, my throat scorched with burning alcohol. I plonked the glass back on the bar and signalled the barmaid to pour me another.

‘It was a strange experience,’ Paul admitted. ‘I’m standing there in stony silence, trying to look like a hard man, whilst Nick and … Vlad … is that what you call him …?’