Her words come back to me with the bite of irony:

You’re a Pollyanna.

You need tough dreams.

I’ve been trying to protect you.

How O approached me through my channel like just another ASMR client. How she convinced me I’d be helping her by moving in, so that I could feel better about the fact that she was helping me, so that I’d be emotionally bound to her. Even as she was using me as her little guinea pig.

And to think I came here half-expecting to find her a captive of Martin Elstree. They were in it together all along.

Our conversation about the BigSky study comes back to me. How I suggested that she look up the other study participants. Of course, she had done that long ago. That was how she found me. So what about the others? Who else is part of her schemes?

People are sleepwalking all over London. People are dying, and BigSky is planning to make big profit from ‘liminal programming’. As personal as this is for me, I’m not the only one. I have to find more. I have to find something that Roman can use. I have to stop this.

By now I’ve been in the flat for fourteen minutes. Knowing London traffic, I should be fine, but I get moving just in case. I switch off the home-entertainment system and am in the kitchen filling the pigeons’ water bottle out of basic decency when Martin Elstree breezes through the door and shuts it behind him smartly. He’s not surprised to see me. He walks over to the kitchen with a swinging, easy gait. He’s enjoying this.

‘Relax, relax. There’s no need for you to be afraid,’ he purrs. His voice is lovely, which makes it worse. ‘This is where you misunderstand me, Chaz.’

I know he’s calling me Chaz just to annoy me, yet I can’t suppress my reaction even though I’m aware of the pleasure he gets from it. I can see the irritation in my face reflected in his gleaming black fridge. I look into my own eyes. I’ve got to act my way through this. If he thinks I’m only here on a mission to find O, he might feel less threatened. I can’t let him find out how much I know.

‘Where is O?’ I cry, and he makes a sad-puppy face.

‘Worried about her, are we?’

‘You have O. I know you do. Just let her go. I’ll leave you alone if you let her go without hurting her. I’ll give up dreamhacking. I’ll move back to Stourbridge. Please, Martin.’

He shakes his head, taking the water bottle out of my hand and gesturing for me to step into the seating area, but I just stand there trembling. Stupid tears well in my eyes. I hate my weakness.