‘He murdered my son!’ Jeksid said again. I noticed that his grip on the gun had changed: his hand was wrapped meaningfully around the bullet chamber. I did not like the mood he had dropped suddenly into. Frejah had not appeared to notice. I tried to signal my fear to Spoder, but at that moment he had his back turned towards me. He was moving around one of the patio chairs, closer to me.

I said: ‘Jeksid, put your gun down.’

He looked at me, his face contorted with anger. I thought I saw him raising the weapon, but in fact he was massaging his right shoulder, flexing it. Then the gun did move in his hand.

Jo suddenly appeared at the door from the office. I turned towards her. She was wearing one of her thick bath robes.

‘Todd, the water heater’s gone wrong! The water ran cold for ages, then suddenly started blowing steam—’

Spoder shouted: ‘Look out, sir!’

I looked back at Jeksid. He was levelling his gun at me, bracing his shoulder with his free hand. I saw a flash. I heard a loud bang.

In that same moment something powerful slammed into my chest, throwing me helplessly backwards. The agony was instant. As I fell I bashed my head against a hard object behind me.

I heard the shot! I heard the shot!

My last living thought. I sank quickly into deathful oblivion.

There were attempts at resuscitation.

I heard sounds, felt movement. People were shouting instructions to each other. I was in a vehicle. I had things strapped to my hands, my face, my chest. Nothing hurt. If this was death it was not what I expected. I drifted away again.

I woke up in a hospital bed, at first seeing with unfocused eyes, my mind wandering. Jo was beside me. It was two days later, she said. Gradually I retuned my senses, focused on Jo and the room I was in. Now I was aching. My head and neck were constrained in some kind of harness. Jo was holding my hand, pressing her face close to mine. I felt her breath on my cheek.

At first it was enough to be alive. There was nothing to say about that. Later Jo told me what had happened.

‘Spoder is a hero,’ she said. ‘He saw Jeksid’s gun, and as the shot was fired he pushed you away. He just swung his arm around and punched you massively in the chest. You stumbled back through the doorway, and hit your head hard on the edge of your desk. It was right behind you. There’s bullet damage in the bookcase against the far wall of your study. I haven’t checked yet which ones they were, but a couple of paperback thrillers were shot. On the shelf of books where you stack the books you never read.