Libby and I hobbled after him, a few steps behind. Jarvis beckoned to us to follow and we spilled out of our prison. The first thing I did was look up at the sky, which I admit I never thought I’d see again. Sombre dusk-blue brushstrokes were darkening it by degrees. Early evening and I’d never seen anything so beautiful. The air was burgers and onions, river smells and petrol fumes – and had never smelled sweeter. From far away came the rumble of traffic, the odd car horn drifting towards us on the wind like a distant song. It started to drizzle, raindrops brushing against my cheeks. It took everything I had not to put out my tongue to catch one of them like a little kid.

‘Move now, admire later,’ Jarvis ordered. ‘Come on! Shift!’

‘Troy’s ankle hasn’t miraculously been fixed in the last minute. D’you wanna help?’ Libby frowned.

Jarvis took another quick look around before heading back to us. Ignoring my grimaces, he half carried, half dragged me to his car. I didn’t bother to argue that I was going as fast as I could.

When we got to his car – a mid-range transporter with dark, tinted windows – Jarvis held open the back door. Libby tumbled in, reaching out to help me inside. It was too high up to hop so I had to put my right foot down, however momentarily, to hoist myself in. Pain flared like fireworks throughout my entire body.

The moment my legs were clear, Jarvis slammed the door shut behind us before running round the front to sit in the driver’s seat. Moments later and we roared off with Libby and I still fastening our seat belts. Only then did I notice the steel-mesh grille on the inside of the back windows. That wasn’t all. There was a mesh grille, running floor to ceiling, acting as a bulkhead between the front and back seats.

‘There are a couple of bottles of water and some snacks in the lower side pockets of the back doors,’ said Jarvis.

He didn’t need to point them out. Libby was already glugging down water like her stomach was on fire.

Never mind that. ‘Is this your car?’ I asked.

‘No, I borrowed it,’ Jarvis said.

‘Where are we going?’ asked Libby. ‘I want to see my dad.’

‘Your dad wants me to take the two of you to my home,’ said Jarvis.

Wait. What? ‘No. Take us home, please.’ I needed to see my mum and my sister almost as much as I needed my next breath.

‘I can’t do that,’ Jarvis argued. ‘If you both go home, what’s to stop your kidnappers from trying again? And we can’t get the police involved yet because some of them are on the payroll of the one who ordered the kidnapping. We’re not going to do anything that puts you in jeopardy.’