Kelly attempted to kick out, perhaps hoping to knock some of them off balance. The kick glanced off Tony’s side, though with little effect. Despite this, Duggan leaned into the trunk and punched Kelly, several times, on the side of the head, stunning him into silence.

‘Grab the shovels,’ Duggan said to Tony. ‘He’ll not hurt you.’

Tony reached in past the prone body, his head spinning. He’d not thought that, in protecting himself and denying his own guilt, they would inevitably blame someone else. They would punish someone else. And more than that, he had not considered that he would be party to meting out that punishment.

‘Grab the petrol can as well and hand it to her,’ Duggan instructed.

Tony did as he was told, lifting the can, the petrol sloshing about inside as he pulled it from behind Kelly’s head and handed it to Karen.

‘You OK?’ he asked.

She nodded, not taking her eyes off Kelly where he lay and Tony knew that, in her head, she was already imagining the only possible ending of this.

Once they were ready, Duggan hauled Kelly to his feet, dragging him out of the trunk. He fell awkwardly to the ground, lay curled there, his hands grasping at the decaying leaves which cushioned his body.

‘Get up,’ Duggan said.

Kelly lay, groaning behind the gag. Duggan lifted his foot and kicked him hard in the balls. Kelly arched his back, sounded like he was choking against the rag that had been wadded in his mouth and taped over. ‘Get up,’ Duggan repeated. ‘Or you’ll get another one.’

Kelly struggled to his feet, but had not the energy or strength to stand. He slumped sideways, falling against the car while Duggan gripped at him to keep him upright.

‘Give him a hand,’ Duggan ordered, and Tony moved forward, ripe with guilt, and, putting his arm around Kelly to support him, used the shovel in his other hand to offer extra balance.

‘Let’s go,’ Duggan said. ‘The place will be empty by this time of the day.’

He carried a torch in one hand, a shovel in the other. Before he moved from the car, he put down the torch a moment and lifted a package, wrapped in blue plastic, from the boot of the car, and wedged it in his pocket.

‘We head north,’ he said.

The woodland was eerily still, the cries of the roosting rooks the only noise. Off to the left, the setting sun had branded the horizon in reds and gold. Tony wanted to tell Kelly to look, hoped he might see this final scene of beauty, but the man next to him kept his head bowed, watching his feet, trying not to trip, without the free use of his hands to break his fall.