They’d need more light to find the thing if it was even there, which Mark doubted. Leaving Val and Abi peering into the darkness, he went back to the car. Guy remained where he sat in the passenger seat, and this needled Mark even more. It was Guy’s damned car and he couldn’t even rouse himself to check for damage. And it was Guy’s bloody fault that they’d had the accident in the first place. If he hadn’t distracted Mark with the seatbelt, then he’d have had his eyes on the road and might have seen the animals sooner.

Mark’s phone was on the dash – he would use the torch function. As he climbed into the car to reach for it, Guy slumped forward, a sharp indrawn breath hissing through his clenched teeth.

‘Are you all right?’ Mark asked.

It was only now that he noticed Guy was clutching at his forehead, and when he sat back suddenly in the seat, Mark could see the large welt just below his hairline, a swollen mass already clearly apparent. Guy’s face had turned greyish in colour, and Mark’s thoughts moved quickly back to the moment Guy had unclipped his seatbelt. Had the man been struggling for breath then? Was that why he’d sought to release himself?

‘Guy?’ Mark said, quietly now as fear swept over him.

Guy’s eyes were closed and his body was twitching and jerking, his mouth opening and closing as if trying to swallow air.

‘Christ!’ Mark backed out of the car and shouted to the women. ‘Get over here now! He’s having a seizure!’ his voice roaring through the darkness, the women turning quickly, their faces lit by the headlamps caught in a rictus of fright.

All at once, the car became a site of panic. Valentina grew hysterical, her hands fluttering around Guy like flapping birds seeking a place to land, wildly imploring her husband to wake up, a stream of rapid French. Abi was brusque, instructional. Swiftly, she sat in the car behind Guy and held his head, fearful of any spinal damage caused by the impact.

‘Call an ambulance,’ she barked, and Mark looked at his phone.

‘There’s no fucking signal!’ he snapped, rushing from the car, his eyes on his phone, desperate to see a bar or two of signal as he hurried down the road.

The vast emptiness of the French countryside surrounded him, dark and dense, and a great swell of fear rose up inside him. What if he’d noticed Guy was struggling to breathe? What if he’d stopped the car then, avoiding the collision with the boar, Guy’s head injury?

‘Come on, come on!’ he muttered, panicking now. Time was passing – they couldn’t afford to hang around.

He ran back to the car. The passenger door was still open, Valentina leaning heavily over her husband, weeping. Abi remained in the back.