Thorns tore at his jeans, but he pressed on and came to the high metal fence. There seemed no discernible way out apart from up and over, so he peered across and instantly recognised the seventies units near the swimming pool. Tony’s place.

As he sat astride the fence for a moment to adjust his seat and swing his legs over, he looked back across to the caravan park and saw the figure swinging his bat under the coloured lights, revealing himself to be considerably younger than James had realised. Before he dipped out of sight, the kid pointed at James with the bat and let out a strange sound, like one animal mocking another, and followed.

It was dark on Tony’s porch, and the key was still in his jeans pocket, but he dropped it and took a second to find it by the doormat in the shadows, listening for sounds coming from the other side of the fence. If the kid took a while to find the hole in the caravan park fence, James might have time to get inside unnoticed.

He shut the door quietly just as the kid starting climbing. A shadow passed over the blind of Tony’s bedroom, stopped and seemed to look in multiple directions, before disappearing.

There was probably no power, but James didn’t want any lights on. He pulled out his phone and flicked it into life, casting a low glow in front of him. Driven by thirst, he found the sink, wrenched the kitchen tap around and dragged water into his needy gullet.

His shirt damp from sweat and spilled tap water, James wrenched off his jacket, threw it over Tony’s lounge chair, checked the glass door at the side was locked, and started searching for a telephone directory.

He found it behind Tony’s chair, squashed into a low shelf. The light from his phone allowed him to find the number for the Kippen police station. He keyed it in with his thumb and sat in the chair while it rang.

The ringtone altered as though connecting through to somewhere else.

‘Hello, Wishaw Police Station,’ the speedy voice answered.

‘Hello, I wanted Kippen police,’ James said.

‘Diverts through to here when there’s no one over there. Is it an emergency?’

James went to unload the whole experience, but every angle he could approach it from was full of ramifications. ‘There’s people being attacked at the Kippen Bridge, in the toilet block. I’ve been pursued,’ he said after a moment.

‘Your name please, caller?’ the officer said.

Anything but that, James thought. ‘There’s men getting belted with bats, they’re probably still at it,’ he said.

‘Are you safe now? If you’re not, I can put you through to emergency.’

‘I think so,’ James replied.

‘Caller, do you need an emergency response?’