They were sitting on the floor of a standard transit with a bare metal interior. Bloom hadn’t seen the van on her walk around the mansion so they must have hidden it somewhere nearby, probably within the adjacent housing estate.

‘Where are we?’ asked Karene. ‘How did you find us?’

Bloom kept her voice low. There was a partition between them and the front seats but she didn’t expect it was particularly soundproof. ‘We’re down the road from the safe house. Near Fareham Community Hospital.’

‘How did you know where we were? Where’s Harry?’

Bloom pointed at Jake’s wrist. ‘That was clever. Well done.’

The boy pulled the sleeve of his hoodie further down to cover his watch.

Bloom leaned close to him and whispered into his ear. ‘Can you text on it?’ She placed a finger over her mouth to warn him to respond as quietly as possible.

He nodded and then pulled his sleeve up to show her the watch, tapping it a few times to no effect.

‘Dead?’

He held his palm to the floor and shifted his hand from side to side.

‘Low?’ she said.

He nodded.

‘I didn’t know you had that,’ whispered Karene.

‘Switch it on,’ said Bloom.

Jake did as she asked and the image that appeared was that of a standard watch face. She could see now how their captors had missed it.

The van stopped. Bloom could hear George speaking in the front seat, but not what he was saying. The side door slid wide open and George’s large frame filled the space. He pointed at Sophie and beckoned for her to come towards him. Bloom sensed this was a man who knew exactly how to manage a situation and that made her nervous. Sophie climbed out and George motioned for the rest of them to follow.

‘No talking. No shouting. Nothing stupid,’ he said. He placed his handgun against the small of Sophie’s back.

They stepped into a little harbour at one end of a car park. Bloom could smell saltwater and the metallic tang of fish. The foot soldier led them towards a smart-looking yacht. It was over ten metres long with a large enclosed cabin surrounded by a wooden deck and topped with an open flybridge housing the wheel. If they got on that, then what? The foot soldier’s weapon was packed away in a holdall slung over his shoulder, but she couldn’t do anything, not with George’s gun at Sophie’s back. She suspected that the syringe was filled with Seraphine’s drug of choice – ketamine – and it took time for the effects to kick in. An elderly couple were standing by the memorial monument on the jetty, but other than that they were alone. There was a pub on the corner opposite, but it wasn’t yet open.

She tried to think of a solution, willed her mind to find the angle. But nothing came.