‘It’s OK, Will. You’re OK. Does it feel better?’

He nodded, solemnly.

‘Bit better.’

A little colour was returning to his cheeks, my terror receding with it. Relief flooding through me in its place.

‘Just sit quiet for a minute, matey. Take it easy.’

Our little-used landline phone was on the kitchen counter. Directory enquiries connected me to the hotel and I listened as it rang six times then put me through to an automated list of options.

The last option was to speak to a human.

‘Listen,’ I said. ‘There’s a man in your underground car park, he may be hurt, you need to send someone down there right away to help him.’

‘Sorry sir, this is the Premier Inn, Redfield Way,’ said the voice, a young man in his late teens or early twenties. ‘Are you sure you have the right number?’

‘Yes! There’s a man down there, he fell and banged his head. His name is Ben Delaney. Can you check he’s OK?’

‘Is he a guest of the hotel?’

‘No, but he’s on your property. Can you check on him or not?’

‘I’m afraid I’m not allowed to leave the front desk, sir, but my supervisor should be back in a bit. If you think an ambulance should be called for a member of the public in the meantime, you should hang up and do so immediately.’

‘Can’t you just run down and see if he’s all right? Lock the front door for two minutes and do a quick circuit of the car park?’

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

‘Is this a prank call?’

‘Never mind,’ I said, and hung up.

I grabbed a bottle of water for William, gave him a quick hug and listened to him breathing again. His airway was getting back to normal. I put the inhaler in my jacket and picked him up.

‘Where are we going, Daddy?’

‘Just a quick trip out in the car before bath time.’

‘Are we going to go fast again?’

‘Quite fast, but not as fast as before.’

My imagination ran laps as I drove, new thoughts unspooling now William’s asthma emergency had passed. Going over everything I’d seen in the last hour. Trying to make some sense of it.

What did you see?

What did you actually see?

I had seen him angry, her upset. What did he say to upset her?

Him lying on the ground, eyes closed. Blood.

What if he’s still lying there?

Of course he’s not.

He might be.

What if he is?

And, rising above it all, that horrible wet smack as Ben’s head hit the concrete.

Maybe he’s fractured his skull. Can you die from that? Of course you can. If you’re left there and no one helps you.

Maybe there would already be police on the scene by the time I got there. Unspooling crime scene tape, putting numbered evidence markers on the ground. Floodlights. Maybe getting ready to put up one of those white tents you see on the news when the police are hiding a body from prying eyes.