The quickest way was to go back along Thorpe Road but that would mean going past the entrance to our street. I was close enough to see the lights on Crescent Bridge from here – once I was the other side of that, I could just turn left and onto Bourges Boulevard – or cut through past the front of the railway station, right up Bright Street … Lincoln Road, Dogsthorpe Road … I had my own set of keys but what would my parents think about me letting myself into their house at three in the morning? It would be best to ring the bell – if I woke them by making a noise downstairs it would frighten the life out of them. Then I remembered that I didn’t have my keys on me. That settled it. I could already picture them, coming down the stairs, their dressing gowns pulled tight, their faces blank with concern. Mum, Dad, I’ve made a terrible mistake … My mother would put the kettle on – her first reflex in any crisis – and together we would sit around the kitchen table, the dark outside, the clock ticking, and Dad would take my hand where it lay on the table and say, ‘You’re freezing, love, should I put the heating on?’ As I explained to them what had happened, what it had been like the last few months, since Matty moved in, they would exchange glances, and tears of relief would begin to roll down my cheeks and Mum would get up from her chair and put an arm round my shoulder and rub it and say, ‘It’s okay, love, I just wish you’d told us all this before.’ I still wouldn’t tell them the full truth, but I would use a phrase like ‘gets a bit rough with me’, and at that, my father’s face would redden. ‘Reckon I might go round in the morning and have a word with that lad.’ And at that, I would smile. The next day I would have to work out what to do about getting some stuff from the flat – I would be staying with my parents until Matty moved out – but would think to myself, I’ll worry about that in the morning.

I looked back. Turning out of our side road were the headlights of a car.

I turned to my right and ran down the slip road. Matty wouldn’t be able to drive down here. I’d never been down this way before but if the pathway was open for pedestrian access it had to lead somewhere, maybe to the housing estate on the far side of the depot. I didn’t know – I only knew that if I stayed on Thorpe Road or tried to go back across Crescent Bridge, Matty couldn’t fail to see me.