Nefyn’s eyes fell to the man’s waistband. The handle of a knife, just above his belt loop. She looked up again at Hamza. Shook her head imperceptibly in warning.

‘You’d happily see us all dead, wouldn’t you?’ Owens said. Hamza could smell alcohol on his breath. ‘Just because we don’t live like you. Think like you.’

Owens leant nearer, his words making him look older somehow. Nefyn could see the despair on Hamza’s face.

‘What do you want?’ asked Hamza.

Owens flicked his head upwards.

‘I want you to come with me. And we’re going to march right back to the barracks, into that fucking Lieutenant Colonel’s office, and we’re going to blow their whole story wide open.’

Nefyn listened to the sea, the way it churned the stones as it turned them in the tide. Knocked off the hard edges.

‘I can’t do that.’

Owens smiled.

‘I don’t think you understand. You’re still a prisoner. I’m still the guard here. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.’ Then he turned his gaze to Nefyn.

‘No,’ Hamza repeated.

Owens turned his head sharply. Laughed. Drew the knife from his waistband, and held it in front of him.

‘Or we could do this another way.’

‘Don’t do this,’ said Nefyn.

Owens smirked. ‘You don’t know him.’

Hamza and Owens stared at each other. Eye to eye. He moved closer, his breath on Hamza’s face. ‘Thought you’d got away, didn’t you?’ Hamza noticed the sweat on his face, his brow. ‘Now, come with me,’ he said again, pressing the blade of his knife nearer to Hamza. Hamza felt his anger consolidate into something harder. His jaw clenched in fury.

‘No,’ he said, pushing the words out, ‘I will not.’

Hamza braced as Owens raised his hand to lunge at him. Nefyn closed her eyes. Hamza flinched, and waited for the strike of the knife, but then Owens’s face changed. He stopped. His arm mid-air. He looked up at his hand, and watched as the knife dropped to the floor, clattered on the stones beneath their feet, its blade blunting. Nefyn opened her eyes and the guard turned to look at her. Slowly. Deliberately. Their eyes locked. She smiled at him. Comfortingly. And then Hamza watched as he turned again, turned away and started walking. As though his mind was broken. He walked towards the sea. Hamza watched as Nefyn’s dispassionate eyes followed him. Over the strandline. His arms by his sides. He didn’t flinch at all at the cold. He seemed completely and utterly calm as he kept walking, walking into the sea.