Voices were volleyed back and forth, and Ben – lost in the crossfire – tried not to flinch too noticeably. No single element of that experience wasn’t besieging his senses. Even after their circle fragmented, the odour of their bodies remained. His stomach was twisted enough by nerves without swallowing back that air.

An old woman – toothless, with hollow gums that sucked in the folds of her face – stood by the open panel of her home, watching Ben like some devilish effigy. It was as though she lacked a skull to define the shape of her head. The eyes were as slits, buried beneath a sagging brow, all shadows and filth. She belonged in a fairy tale. The witch in the woods, hungry for young bones. He couldn’t tell if she was locked in or if she was set there like a guard dog to keep intruders out. Both seemed plausible.

‘You okay there, love?’ Ben whispered, staring back at her.

He raised a hand slowly, thumb up, hoping for her mouth to crack like dried dirt into a smile. It didn’t. Maybe she hadn’t understood the gesture.

A sudden cry came from within her cottage, grief-stricken and so pained as to make Ben stagger backwards. He couldn’t tell if it was human or animal. Somehow, it could have been either. The woman disappeared into the darkness immediately, drawing the door shut behind her.

Still, Ben listened, but there was only the disjointed din from the villagers behind him.

He tried to act as though he hadn’t heard anything, not wanting to discard his smile when he needed it most. But that voice wasn’t so easily forgotten, lingering amidst his thoughts like the smoke from a snuffed-out candle. It had almost sounded like a plea for help.

Chloe was busy chatting to two thirty-something men who had been invited into their fold. One of them squeezed his cap like a wet sponge. He had the ungainly manner of a child dragged from his bedroom to meet the visitors. Chloe had turned the charm up to ten, brandishing that smile of hers like a headlight on full beam. Her distemper was strictly reserved for one man – the wasp. He watched them both from afar like a school headmaster who had singled out the troublemakers.

‘Do you like them?’ Chloe said, popping the sunglasses off her head. ‘My mam got them for me. Here, try them on.’

The man took a step back, shrinking as though his bones had turned to powder.

‘Suit yourself,’ she replied, perching them back on her nose. ‘But can you honestly tell me these aren’t the epitome of cool?’