Philips smiled. ‘They’re Phase Fives. Survival skills, self-preservation. They’ve got to stay out on their own and keep out of each other’s way for five days and nights. Bit of fun, really, but it builds that sense of independence and helps them believe in their ability to survive on their own. After all, they don’t know what they’re going to have to put up with in the future.’

The next building they entered was busy with staff in white coats. ‘Medical area. We pick up where the NHS leaves off.’ He held open a door to a spacious carpeted ward. There were eight beds and each seemed to have at least one nurse nearby.

‘No shortage of staff here, then.’

‘You noticed. That’s a big part of it. Most of these blokes just need attention. A lot of it’s basically physio. We leave the invasive stuff to the hospitals, but recovery can be a long old process, two years, sometimes more. We see them through it.’

Not for the first time that day Tom’s thoughts drifted back to Blakey. ‘How do you get accepted here?’

Philips shrugged. ‘Word-of-mouth, recommendations. All pretty informal and low key.’

‘Is there a long queue?’

‘Yeah, that’s our problem. We need to grow. The boss is onto it, but it can’t come soon enough.’

Back outside, they passed through a screen of trees and headed towards a long, low building that resembled a cattle shed. There were no windows, just a small gap between the walls and the roof. From it came a noise Tom couldn’t decipher at first. As they got closer it became clearer. It was human. Shouts, screams, whimpers.

‘For a lot of us, it started here. Detox – there’s no easy way.’

He gave Tom a look that confirmed he was a graduate of this part of the programme. ‘We make no apology for the conditions. We keep an eye on them medically, in case they try to do something terminal. Otherwise they’re on their own to crack on and get through it. Believe me, when you get out, life never felt so sweet.’

‘Don’t you have Health and Safety or some regulator on your backs?’

Philips smirked. ‘We don’t exactly broadcast our methods.’

‘You’re showing me. I’m a complete stranger.’

‘Mr Rolt’s instructions were that you should see it all.’

Over a roast-beef sandwich and a Coke, Philips opened up.

‘Enlisting was all about getting out of where I came from, a fairly typical scenario.’ He sketched out a family life from hell: Dad in prison most of the time and when he wasn’t, drinking himself comatose or beating up his wife and any of the kids who were in reach. His violence was indiscriminate – everybody got equally fucked up.