‘Goodness me!’ he exclaimed. ‘What excitement! Why was that nurse after you, do you think?’

‘I have no idea.’ Benny took a long swig from her mug. ‘I don’t know any nurses. Perhaps she’s another one of this lot who are hunting me.’

‘As you say. I mean, terrible for you, being pursued, but this is dreadfully exciting. Oh, I say, it’s only just occurred to me. Bernice, you’re wearing trousers!’

‘Many people have already noted that, Alexander. I don’t suppose you’ve got a bath, have you?’

‘Oh yes,’ said the effervescent curator. ‘By sheer chance, I, erm, already had the boiler on. Was going to have one myself, after my lady friend had left, but your need is greater.’

‘Wonderful.’ Benny drained her mug in one lengthy gulp. ‘Now, Constance, will you be all right getting to your own lodgings?’

‘Of course.’ The young woman finished her tea and stood up. ‘I shall see you here at eleven, and then we shall reverse the roles we have so far played. Your persecutors shall be the prey, and we the hunters.’

‘You know,’ said Benny, ‘when you say things like that, you almost make me feel confident.’

The dark man swirled in and out of Smith’s vision, a fluttering phantom above him.

Pain was shouting distantly. Smith clutched his hand, astonished at the new shape of it. That was the thing about taking a wound, the unreasonable fact that a bit of you had gone.

Serif had chewed on the finger thoughtfully for a few seconds as Smith had screamed, and then swallowed it. He put a hand to Smith’s temple, and suddenly the little schoolteacher found that he couldn’t scream any more. Some part of him wanted to reach down the creature’s throat and take the lost part of him back, but most of his thoughts were consumed by a sickening, flattening, terror. He noticed, as his vision swirled randomly around the room, that the owl seemed to have gone.

Perhaps he’d only dreamed it. Serif spent several minutes just sitting on his chest, concentrating. Finally he spoke.

‘I can taste who you think you are. Laylock did his work well. You are full of nanites, and if I had eaten more of you, they would start affecting me. This person you have made for yourself is quite fascinating. Shall we dig a little deeper?’

The gloved hand again touched Smith’s scalp.

He and Serif were standing on a shale beach beside a cold sea at night, watching the beam of a lighthouse cycle round and round in the mist. ‘This is the home that you fled?’ Serif asked.

‘Aberdeen, yes.’ Smith took a deep breath of sea air and looked at his hand. It was whole again. ‘Who are you? What do you want with me?’