‘Sorry,’ he says out loud. It’s not his voice. It’s a whimpering child’s. ‘Sorry.’

He closes his eyes. He knows he’s seen all he’ll ever see now. His breathing slows. He’s almost calm. Or numb.

I’m ready.

Jump.

Jump, you fucking pussy!

‘Alfie?’ The soft voice is surely in his own head. ‘Alfie, my lovely?’

He’s colder than he’s ever been. Have I already jumped? he wonders. Opening his eyes, it takes a second to orientate himself, to see that, no, he’s still standing fifteen metres in the air.

Jump, already. Jump, you useless cunt.

‘Alfie? Talk to me, Alfie?’ Her voice is warm.

He looks around. It’s not his imagination – the fog really is flashing blue to white to blue to white. A radio crackles somewhere.

‘I just want to talk, my darling.’

She’s on the ground, almost directly below him. She looks barely older than he is, but her fluorescent jacket reveals her to be here in an official capacity.

‘My name’s Odette,’ she tells him. ‘Just like to have a chat with you, mate. Do you think that might be OK? Just a chat?’

Alfie’s legs seem even weaker suddenly, almost buckling beneath him. He shakily lowers himself so he’s sitting on the branch.

‘I’m with the ambulance service. Just want to keep you safe, Alfie. Can we talk?’

Alfie nods. He clutches the branch tighter than ever.

No Capes

‘Shit! Didn’t see you there,’ the fireman says, shaking off and tucking himself back into his trousers.

Will sits on a low fence, facing across the marsh. ‘Don’t mind me.’

‘Too many cups of tea. Keeps me awake on a night shift, see.’

Will smiles, still gazing at the bare tree fifty metres away. ‘Is he OK?’ he asks. ‘The guy you helped down?’

Twenty minutes ago, this same firefighter had scaled a ladder, cut away the rope, and steadied Alfie as he returned to solid ground.

‘He’s in the best possible hands. Lucky we got here when we did. Poor sod. What drives a young lad to do such a thing?’

Will feels a fizzing at the bridge of his nose. ‘Thank you. You and everyone.’

He gives a shrug as if to say it’s nothing. ‘You know him?’

Will nods.

‘When you see him, tell him to stop playing at silly buggers.’

‘Dunno if it’s that simple.’

The fireman gives him a sad smile. ‘Course it’s not. I know. Bit of male camaraderie bullshit there, I’m afraid. Just slips out.’ He pats Will on the shoulder.