He led her into the first, larger room at the end of the corridor, the one she’d hidden in while listening to Picton insulting Vincent that first day. ‘This was the main performance room,’ he told her. ‘Tiny compared to most pro studios; with the mics and the amps, you could fit six in at a squeeze if they had small instruments. On some of the tracks, they had to come in on shifts, half the band playing at a time. You know, those big, sociable reggae and ska numbers, all recorded in parts in here. And look…’ He turned and gestured through the soundproof window to the control room next door. The console was alight, ranks of switches and slides lit up like a modern painting.

‘You’re leaving it behind.’

‘Yeah. It belongs here. It lives here.’

‘But Worthing’s coming tomorrow. He’ll just rip it out, throw it away.’

‘Tomorrow’s problems are for tomorrow,’ Vincent said. ‘This is my wrap party.’

Petra still didn’t like the way he said that, and didn’t like the way he included her in his end-times plans. But now he was spreading out a red blanket in the middle of the empty floor, and unloading a cooler from the corner, a bottle of the wine she’d enjoyed at the pizza place, a pack of beers, crisps and a salad from the grocery, a packet of bread sticks and a thing of veggie hummus – the luxury sort with the seeds on top. A big bar of chocolate. It felt too much like a uni date to feel afraid; that comforting familiarity – the ease – was just what she needed right now, and Vincent knew it.

‘This is nice,’ she said. ‘You should have told me to bring something.’

‘I’ve got everything I need right here.’ He sat down on the blanket. ‘Except maybe a cushion. The floor’s bloody hard.’

Petra sat down across from him. The sounds reverberated in the room, swallowed in padded corners and spat out strangely between floor and ceiling. Their voices were focused, amplified, the crinkle of the bags sharp and defined. Petra was conscious of the wetness in her mouth as she chewed on a slice of green pepper.

‘I wanted to say sorry,’ Vincent said. ‘I shouldn’t have just disappeared. It’s been a weird week.’

‘It has, right?’ Petra laughed. ‘It wasn’t just what we thought we saw in the dell. It’s the whole week. Have you been seeing weird things?’

‘Uh, kind of, I suppose.’