The lights were out and the candles had burned low, but they still flickered. The rain had stopped.

Joe wasn’t back. He would have woken me if he’d come inside.

Where was he? Had something terrible happened to him while I was sleeping?

I took the candle, picked up the phone and hobbled to the door. My flip-flops were tumbled with Joe’s on the mat. I put them on and went outside, stepping into a puddle. I walked out towards the path and I saw the door at the bottom of the cellar steps was open and a faint light was glowing inside.

I limped down the steps and looked cautiously around the door. The light was coming from the wine cellar. I heard a chink of glass and a snatch of music: Nick Cave. Joe adored Nick Cave. I crept forward until I reached the vaulted archway and looked through. Joe was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He was listening to the song on his phone and that was the source of the pale blue light. He had a wine bottle in his hand and another lay empty on the floor beside him. Something alerted him to my presence. Slowly, he looked up at me and raised the bottle. The flesh around his left eye was so swollen that the eye was barely a slit. I had to work hard not to let the shock I felt show itself on my face. It wasn’t only Joe’s physical appearance: I was terrified he might have had an emotional relapse too. Why else would he hide away down here, on his own? I approached him slowly, gently.

‘God, Joe,’ I whispered. ‘What happened? What are you doing down here?’

‘Swelling.’

I limped towards him, struggling to keep a reassuring smile on my lips.

‘Does it hurt?’

‘Not much. How’s the foot?’

‘It’s fine.’

I sat down beside him.

‘We’re a right pair,’ said Joe. He was drunk but not incoherent. I relaxed a little.

The sound of the water slapping against the rocks in the cave was eerie and unfriendly and when the wind blew in a certain direction, the cave caught the sound as a bottle will collect breath, and magnified it into an eerie, low-pitched wail. I remembered the faceless knight puppet on the cave floor. I wished we hadn’t left it there. I wished we’d got rid of it.

I stroked Joe’s face very gently. ‘You said you were only going to talk to Vito.’

‘That was my intention. I did not intend to get hit.’

I felt a rush of rage at the thought of anyone hurting Joe.

‘Was it Vito? Did he hit you?’

‘Several times.’

‘Did you hit him back?’

‘I told him to stop being such a dick.’

‘Good for you, Joe.’

‘Then he hit me again.’