Moses bent to sweep her hair back, an oddly affectionate move for someone holding a chair leg as a weapon. Delores moved her face a little so her cheek rested in the palm of his hand, her eyes not gazing into his but flicking down. It was a move Thea was familiar with and, despite the pain she must have been feeling, Delores did it with speed and ferocity. Moses had his legs planted apart in front of her and so she kicked, kicked hard upwards; it would have had more effect if she’d still been wearing her boots but, even using her bare feet, Moses gasped and crumpled at the hips. She clambered out of the chair and went to the door, pressing against it, then thumping it when she found it locked. Meanwhile, Moses was half slumped over her desk, still clutching the chair leg and yes, Thea was quite sure, he was chuckling softly to himself.

‘There’s the woman I loved,’ he said and then took a few quick deep breaths. ‘Never one to miss an opportunity to knee me in the balls.’

Delores paced at a safe distance away from him, Moses blocking her from the corner where he’d thrown the tablet. Thea was rooted to the chair, once again the audience for someone else’s drama.

But then Moses’s laughing turned to crying, huge racking sobs that he almost choked out, one hand over his face, sprawling over the desk.

‘My God, Max – what have you done? Do you even understand?’

Delores slowed her pacing and exchanged a glance with Thea. Moses’s hand kept its grip on the chair leg. Thea looked from one to another, like a child caught between dysfunctional parents. With which monster should she side?

‘What have I done with it?’ Delores kept her voice even and calm, moving nearer to him. ‘If you had really been so worried about that, you would have taken my advice from the start and just stopped. Destroyed the thing.’

Moses’s shoulders slumped and he sat in the chair, leaning over the desk with a hand to his forehead.

‘But it was good tech – wasn’t it?’

He moved the chair leg like a rolling pin on the desk, back and forth, back and forth, hypnotizing himself with it.

‘Yes, Moses, it was good tech,’ Delores said, never taking her eyes off the chair leg.

‘I could have worked it out! I still could! I could fix all of this!’

Back and forth went the chair leg, each roll sending it a little further out of his reach.

‘You could.’ Delores moved nearer still.

‘I could.’ He gripped the chair leg again, not looking up.