‘The way you talk to me, it’s like you think I’m a terrible person,’ he says, his brow rumpling with concern. ‘Please, have a seat. Can I offer you something to drink? Or are you hell-bent on the water?’

‘I was going to give it to the pigeons. I thought O was here.’

‘In the pigeon coop?’ He says it so mildly that I feel like a fool. Have I got everything wrong? No. No, I haven’t. I need to trust my instincts. I need to be like Shandy.

Shandy, help. He’s found me in the flat. He’s here. Help!

The signal sticks. He’s got a firewall up.

‘There’s no need for you to fear me,’ he says. ‘I only get rid of the people who are in my way. Nearly everyone else is safe. Plus, I’m a pretty nice guy, if you could just see that. It’s time we started cooperating instead of fighting each other.’

I wish I could laugh at him but I’m terrified. And angry. But mostly the first one.

‘It’s obvious you think I’m kind of an arsehole,’ he says genially.

‘No, of course I don’t, I’m sure you’re lovely. I have to go, I’m sorry . . . I misunderstood the situation, here’s your key.’

I fling the keys on the counter and dodge around him, sprinting for the door.

It’s locked.

Maybe I am dreaming. Maybe this is my subconscious churning up hundreds of low-budget movies to remind me of all my poor cinematic choices when I was twelve. I’ve been acting just like the stupid heroine who goes into the basement.

‘Please unlock the door. I need to leave.’

‘In good time. First we talk. Please sit down. You’re a bundle of nerves. I don’t know what you take me for. It was only a dream, that session we had. I thought you were a professional. I thought you were worldly. The way you hold my entertainment preferences against me is really quite juvenile.’

I open my mouth to answer but my teeth are chattering.

‘It’s OK, we all have our price. I’m a good tipper – you would have found that out if you had finished our first session. Now you’ve come riding in here thinking you’re going to save humanity from my depredations, but the truth is I’m just doing my job. At least I’m honest. Life is short. If I can get power, I’m going to take it. And I’m going to keep it. If desire for power is a mental illness then I don’t want to be healthy, because desire for power is the mental illness Western civilization is built on.’