I paused for a moment, steadying my breath, although my heart pounded inside me as hard and as heavy as a piece of industrial machinery. I closed my eyes briefly, thinking of the agony in his voice when he called. He was worried for me. I thought of his face when he was booking the flights to Venice, his happiness and excitement, the way he kissed me when it was done. I clenched my eyes tight shut. Matty – had I got it all wrong? He had only ever been concerned for my safety. He knew how unstable I was. What’s wrong with you? Why are you so paranoid? And in a moment of clarity, I knew: I was many things but I was not mad. I did not doubt myself.

I heard a noise, then, the scrape of a shoe against gravel it sounded like, although I couldn’t tell whether it was from inside the yard or just the other side of the sagging wire fence. It was enough.

At the far end of the yard, there was another wire fence, also easy to pull. I was over it as quickly as the first. See, not nearly as incompetent as you always thought, Matty. Tall undergrowth lay between me and the housing estate but now, just a couple of metres to the right, I had access to the tracks. If I walked alongside them a few metres, I’d be able to cross in the darkness – and I could see, from where I was, a row of access steps at the far end of Platform Seven, with a narrow barrier it would be easy to swing round to get onto the platform. I’d be able to nip up those and go up the ramp and across the walkway.

Over on Platform One, in the distance, I saw a lone staff member, a black guy in an orange hi-vis jacket, night staff of some sort. He was walking slowly away from me towards the exit. I could run over to him. I’d have some explaining to do but I was trying to get out of the station, not in, I’d talk my way out of it, make up some story about my mum being ill and how I had to get to Dogsthorpe as quickly as possible. If there were any taxis at the rank I’d get one but at this hour there probably wouldn’t be – maybe I’d be able to get the man in the orange jacket to call me a cab, if he was nice, or maybe I’d just walk, I didn’t care – I’d run up Lincoln Road if I had to.

The man disappeared from view. Don’t go anywhere, I thought, I need you. I glanced behind me, where the junkyard was swallowed by the dark, then I lifted my foot over the first rail. It would take two seconds, that was all.