‘You got here four days ago?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve been out of it for four days?’

‘You have been in an induced coma to allow your body to heal past any point of danger. You were on a drip until a couple of hours ago. Medicine has come a long way since your times, Ben.’

‘Oh.’

‘And other than needing complete rest, you’re fine.’ The doctor sighs again, that precursor to bad news. ‘However . . . I have some bad news.’

‘Okay.’

‘Miss Patel and Mr Madden came for me . . . I believe the term used here is extraction? I was on my yacht when a storm hit and I am given to understand that I died in that storm.’

‘Right,’ Ben says, feeling his heart rate increasing.

‘A doctor was required to give medical aid to you following the beating given to you from Mr Madden. I was the doctor chosen and your colleagues came for me to extract me from my point of death to bring me back here to administer to your injuries.’

Ben stares, mesmerised by this strange man speaking so bluntly but in a way that ensures his rapt and unwavering attention.

‘They did not make it back,’ the doctor says, staring at Ben. ‘Miss Patel and Mr Madden both perished in the storm.’

Ben stays silent for a long second. Staring unblinking and unmoving. ‘But . . . how did you get back?’

‘I don’t know. I was unconscious. All I know is I got through and they did not come back.’

Ben swallows, feeling the world as it spins dizzyingly the wrong way, making him want to grip the bed for fear of falling off. Safa and Harry are dead. Both dead.

‘But . . .’

‘This is a shock,’ Doctor Watson says gently, ‘and I apologise for the way in which I spoke to you, but I needed to be sure you were able to cognitively absorb and deal with the bad news.’

‘Safa?’

‘Yes, Ben. Safa did not make it back, and neither did Harry. I am sorry.’

‘I . . . but . . .’

‘I understand that Harry beat you,’ he says, still looking closely at Ben.

Ben nods, unable to say anything.

‘I think it’s important for you to know that Harry was trying a last resort to save you. Roland wanted to send you back, but Harry had told him you’ve got to break a man before you can rebuild him. That’s why the beating was given . . .’

‘I attacked him,’ Ben says stupidly.

‘I think, from piecing everything together, that perhaps you were provoked to have that reaction so that the beating could be given. I understand you were not applying yourself to the tasks required.’

Ben sits stunned to the core as his system dumps adrenaline into veins that surges through his body, snapping him wide awake with his mind racing. ‘Fuck me . . .’

‘Indeed,’ the doctor says, gravely bowing his head in respect.

‘It was wrong . . . the whole fucking thing was wrong . . . Safa was right . . .’