A man and woman were walking towards him. They were in their late sixties, the man wearing a green tweed hat, white hair poking out from under it, the woman a quilted gilet. Each one of them was holding the hand of a small, blond-haired boy.

The man pointed at Maggie.

‘Help,’ he said. ‘She’s a thug. She’s tormenting me. Can you stop her?’

The man in the hat frowned. He stepped in front of the two small boys. ‘Stay back, Harry and George,’ he said. He looked at Maggie. ‘What’s going on here? What are you up to?’

Maggie thought for a moment about explaining, but she was suddenly too tired. This had to stop. And what the man had done to Max had given her an idea.

She lunged at the man and shoved him as hard as she could. He stumbled, and fell into the canal.

The woman gasped. ‘What on earth—’

A voice interrupted. ‘Everybody stay calm.’ Maggie turned. The policeman was walking up to them, Max in his arms. He handed him to Maggie. He was dripping wet. ‘Everything’s fine. I’m a police officer.’

The woman folded her arms. ‘What on earth is happening here?’

Maggie squeezed Max tight.

‘I’m Maggie Cooper,’ she said. ‘And this is Max.’ The black-and-white spaniel sniffed her knee. ‘Is this your dog?’ she said.

‘Yes. He’s called Benjy.’

Maggie put out a hand and the dog licked it. It felt wonderful.

‘Max,’ she said. ‘This is a dog.’

Maggie

She could see that Max was happier when they were alone in a room again. It was a room in the police station, and it had windows and a door that she could walk out of any time she liked, but it was at least a setting familiar to Max, and once they were in there he started to calm down.

He had found the activity – and it had been a whirl of police officers swarming over the boat and asking her questions then leading them to a police car – overwhelming. When the car started to move he began shaking, his eyes wide with fear. Maggie held him tight and whispered in his ear that everything would be OK.

And it would.

They were free.

They were out of the room.

The man – Best, she had heard them calling him – was gone from her life.

There was a knock on the door and a woman came in. She had short hair and bags under her eyes and was wearing a dark suit.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Can I sit down?’

Maggie nodded. She and Max were sitting on a couch and the woman took an armchair facing it. Next to Maggie was a table with two glasses of orange juice on it; she took one and for the first time since the man had taken her, she drank from a glass.

‘Would you like anything else?’ the woman asked. ‘Something to eat?’