He tries again and gets slapped again. The speed of Harry is shocking, his arm a blur of movement. Ben’s cheek stings. He goes for the key and gets slapped with a noise that’s dull and flat. His face burns. He tries again and Harry hits harder and between each slap his hand goes back to the cup. Ben moves faster, trying to snatch the key, but the slaps make him stagger to the side. He recovers and blinks. His face already swelling. Ben turns and reaches for the key in one very slow motion and gets hit harder.

Red mist descends with emotions of hurt, loss, rejection, grief, mourning, self-pity and abject misery all focusing down to a single beam of pure rage that makes Ben charge at Harry with a dull thought that he wants to die so being killed here is just as good as dying at Holborn.

Ben goes fast, throwing fists the soldier swats away with ease. Finally Harry drops the coffee mug and shoves Ben away.

‘You’re untrained,’ Harry says as though bored.

Ben throws rights and lefts that Harry dodges and moves away from with ease.

‘Undisciplined . . .’

Ben lashes out with hard punches but his arms get knocked aside as Harry pushes him in the chest, sending him back several paces.

‘Come again and I’ll beat you,’ Harry says so casually, so easily it sets Ben’s rage off even worse.

Ben charges. Incandescent with fury. Blinded by his own impotent rage. Harry shows no reaction until the very last second, then he shrugs and goes to work.

After that is a blur.

Ben can fight but Mad Harry Madden batters him round the room. Punched, pushed and thrown bodily into chairs and tables that splinter into weapons that he grabs to swing wildly, but Harry’s skill is far beyond anything Ben can throw at him.

Ben goes down but keeps getting back up until his eyes are swelling and his nose is broken. Still he gets back up. He hates this place. He hates Harry. He hates being dead. He didn’t ask for this and he doesn’t know what else to do so he keeps getting up so Harry can kill him and the pain gets worse and the blood comes faster but still he keeps getting back up.

Harry doesn’t speak but stalks about the room waiting for Ben to rise and charge before whipping left and right and smashing fists into his head. A hard punch to Ben’s stomach makes him puke on the ground with acidic bile burning his throat but he gets back up because the rage inside is so strong he cannot deny it.

‘Steph sold you out,’ Harry’s voice booms from somewhere close by. ‘Five days after you died she went to a newspaper. Told them you beat her.’