Ben sighs and sinks down into his chair. ‘I dunno what’s going on,’ he admits. ‘What other—’ He gets cut off by Harry waving his hand and moving swiftly to the door.

‘Someone’s coming,’ Harrys says, moving back a few steps from the sound of footsteps getting closer, the steady dull thump of boots on the bare concrete in the corridor outside.

‘Er, hello? Are you awake in there?’ a male voice calls out, followed by a gentle knock on the door. Harry turns, looking from Ben to Safa almost as though he’s waiting for orders.

‘We are,’ Safa calls back, wincing as she stands up.

‘All of you?’ the man asks.

‘All of us,’ Safa says.

‘We don’t want any trouble,’ Ben calls out. ‘We just want to know what’s going on.’

‘Nor do we,’ the voice says meekly. ‘If we open the door, will you attack us?’

‘No,’ Ben calls out.

‘Mr Ryder? Was that you?’ the voice asks.

‘Yeah it’s me.’

‘What about Miss Patel and Mr Madden?’ he asks.

‘They’re right here,’ Ben says.

‘Cor, fuck me,’ the man mutters. ‘I don’t want to do it. You do it.’

‘Me?’ another voice says. ‘Sod off, my nose has been broken three times in the last—’

‘So it’s already broke then. Go on, Malc. You do it.’

‘No!’ Malc hisses. ‘You do it.’

‘I can’t. I’m scared,’ the other voice says.

‘We won’t attack you,’ Ben calls out, looking at the other two. ‘Will we?’

‘Er, no,’ Safa says.

‘I will,’ Harry says.

‘Harry,’ Ben groans.

‘Sod that. I ain’t opening it,’ one of the voices mutters.

‘We’re not opening it if Mr Madden is going to attack us,’ the other voice calls out.

‘Harry,’ Ben says. ‘I just want to get out of here.’

‘We’re in a Boche camp,’ Harry says, rolling his shoulders to prepare for the fight. ‘They get what’s coming to ’em.’ He turns to look at Ben and Safa. ‘You two get back against that wall . . . or go in one of the other rooms. Right, you dirty Boche, Ben and Safa don’t want to fight so leave them out of it . . . just me . . .’

‘We’re not in Germany,’ Malcolm calls out. ‘Mr Madden, none of this is what you think it is.’

‘Mind games,’ Harry tuts.

‘Do the window,’ the other voice whispers.

‘We can prove it,’ Malcolm blurts. ‘But please stay calm.’

‘I’m calm,’ Harry says, dropping into the same low voice he had yesterday.

‘Shit,’ Ben mutters as Harry gets ready to fight whoever is about to come through.

‘Harry,’ Safa says quickly. ‘We’re not at war with Germany.’

‘You coming?’ Harry calls out.

‘We’re going to show you,’ Malcolm says.

‘COME ON,’ Harry roars at the door.

‘Harry,’ Safa says tightly. ‘Come back from the door . . .’