Lee makes apologetic noises, fruity, gargling pigeon noises. The ground beneath him is spongy, its damp seeping through his trousers. He feels the knobbly trunk at his back, smells the rich dark earth, and realises that he might die here.

Panic comes with this thought. It has finally found him, caught him up, and it makes itself known to him in an intimate embrace. His panic is a close, constricting thing, closing off his windpipe. He feels warmth in his trousers and knows he has urinated.

Kemp is pacing back and forth now, growing more and more agitated. Lee doesn’t know if he will kill him. He doesn’t think Kemp knows. He is making a call on his mobile, and Lee can hear the voicemail recording. Simpkin must be busy with his kids. Lee hopes they puke in his car, all over the leather interiors. He knows Simpkin will be livid when he finds out what Kemp has done, the underling taking the initiative in the boss’s absence.

Kemp doesn’t know this yet, of course. He is too new to the job. He’s tapping out a message, then looking stupidly at the screen. He wants someone to tell him what to do. Don’t we all, Lee wants to say. And he almost feels for the guy, a fellow craven mortal. But this spark of recognition, instead of making him warm to Kemp, makes him more afraid of him. He sees him for what he is. A dangerous quantity, a wrecking ball of a human being.

Kemp stops stalking back and forth and looks at Lee. Finally he says, ‘So what do I do if you won’t help me? What am I meant to do?’ He is despairing.

Lee makes talking noises.

‘What’s that? Oh, for fuck’s sake. Here.’ He rips the tape off Lee’s mouth.

It hurts. It feels like he’s been punched. Lee’s mouth goes slack from the shock of it. He can scream and shout now, but who’s going to hear him?

‘I’ll help you,’ he says.

‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because I know you, Darren. I helped you last time, didn’t I?’ Lee speaks softly and quickly. He lets him see his fear, the bald edge of his terror. Kemp needs to see that his threats have worked. ‘You don’t want to make things worse,’ he goes on. ‘This can be just between you and me. It’ll all be fine, I promise, but you’ve got to let me go.’ He adds, ‘I’ve learned my lesson. Promise.’

Kemp stares at him and groans. ‘You’ve ruined my day, Prescott.’ Then, ‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Okay.’ He crouches before him. ‘I’ll leave you here, alright?’ Taking a penknife from his rucksack, he nicks the tape between Lee’s wrists. ‘You work away at that, you’ll be out of here in no time.’