Lowther looked over the parapet. Matlock Bath was below him, with the A6 and the Derwent snaking their way from the north beneath the crags of High Tor. Masson Hill and High Tor had split apart at some time. A fissure in the tor was a continuation of the same mineral vein that formed Masson Cave, which now lay on the opposite side of the valley. He could hear the traffic on the road, the clank of machinery working somewhere, a flock of jackdaws on the hill. Then the cables whirred into life as another set of cars began their descent.

The cable cars stopped automatically near the top of their climb, to allow visitors to admire the view and take photographs. He’d hung there himself on the way up, alone in his bubble high above the ground. Where to go next? The answer was too tempting. He’d imagined his cable car breaking loose and dropping towards the A6, the wind whistling through the sides as it fell, turning slowly in the air. The sound of the wind might drown out the voices. The impact with the ground might stop the world whirling round his head, scare away the colours and shapes that crept closer to the corners of his vision like spiders in his brain.

Southwards, he was looking at the dome of the Pavilion and the Fishpond Hotel. At the south end of the village, high among the trees, was Gulliver’s Kingdom, with its towers and turrets and the screams of children riding the switchback. That was where most of the voices came from. The voices of children. They were difficult for him to ignore, and even harder to understand.

If he put twenty pence in the telescope, he might be able to see right into the theme park. He might make out the pirate ship on Bourbon Street, or the singing frogs and a talking apple in the Palais Royale. Further away, there’d be the Rio Grande Train Ride chugging its way through fake cacti and replica Indians, and imitation vintage cars that ran on tracks, like trams. Kids didn’t need much to spark their imaginations, if they were young enough – if they hadn’t reached the age when they were taught to fear anything that wasn’t quite real.