No line at the till – that was good, I had to buy something to be able to withdraw cash. A Bounty bar, one dollar on special, that’d do. I scanned it, beep, held it, waited for the prompt, pressed the Card and Cash Out option, typed in fifty dollars, tapped … Fucking hell, the payWave wasn’t working. I rammed the card into the slot, keyed in fifty dollars again. Which account: Credit, Cheque or Savings? How the fuck would I know? Just give me my fucking cash, you fucking dills. Credit ? I pressed it. No. Savings? No. Was this place for fucking real? Cheque? Probably not, the way things were –

Yes. Fucking yes. The yellow note slipped out slowly. I nearly ripped it, shoved it into my pocket, put the Bounty in my bag.

I straddled my bike, fastened my helmet, barely looked at –

Dingding. Biddy: Good luck! No word from Josh yet. I’ll let you know if that changes :( X

I texted: X

The Green was just round the corner, we’d be there in plenty of time. Unless Zac arrived in plenty of time, too. A tactical advantage to being there first, choosing the table, getting the beer, making sure my phone was well positioned and ready to record him.

I said to Sarah, ‘Do you have a buckled chain or something? Is that why you’re so slow?’

Her dirty look, one of her classics.

We chained our bikes to a pole, went in, stood at the bar. I gave Sarah the money to order the beer – I was in no state. I walked through to the beer garden, eyeing everyone I passed, suspicious of them all … Zac wasn’t there. Lots of laughter, people smoking, drinking, having a good time. What did they think this was – a place to unwind?

Sarah came up alongside me with a jug of pale ale and two glasses. ‘No sign of him, hun?’

‘What about that table over there?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

It was raised, up a couple of steps, had good sightlines. Sarah put down the beer and glasses. I got rid of one chair, arranged the others so she and I would be sitting at one side of the table, with Zac – J’accuse! – on the other.

She was a kind soul; I had to be mindful of that. ‘Don’t let him draw you in emotionally, you know how well he can –’

‘Chris, look,’ she said. ‘He’s here.’

It was ten to. He’d come early to steal a march on me, hadn’t seen us. He sat down at a table a few metres away, his back to us, got out his phone. J’accuse! J’accuse! J’accuse! I put my bag next to my chair, opened the zip, hit Record on my phone, slipped it under the drinks menu. Calm, I had to be calm, the weight of evidence we’d gathered was …