Thump! Isaac kicks him again. This time, when Frank gets back onto his knees, a slow stream of blood flows from his temple to his jaw.

“Say that again,” Isaac says, lifting the axe in his right hand. The blade glints in the light of Gabe’s torch.

Frank shakes his head.

Thump! Isaac kicks him again. “Talk! Come on, Mr Mouthy. Share your fucking insightful thoughts with the group!”

This time Frank doesn’t bother getting up. Instead, he twists onto his back, spits towards the river then looks up at Isaac as a dark shape speeds towards them from the bridge. Kane raises the torch as the man draws near. It’s Johan.

The tall Swede steps between Isaac and Frank and holds up his hands. “I just came from your study. Whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t.”

Isaac steps around him as though he’s invisible. “Come on, then, Frank. If you’re such a fucking expert on the way we do things, why don’t you share your observations with us.”

Frank shifts into a sitting position and nods towards Johan as though thanking him for his intervention. “Fine. If you want to know, Isaac, I’ll tell you. This place isn’t a retreat. It isn’t some idyllic haven for eco-warriors. It’s a fucking joke and a sham. What’s up, Isaac? Got small dick syndrome, have you? Is that why you need everyone to suck it? I know what you do to the girls. Don’t think I haven’t seen the marks around Paula’s wrists, and you’ve got the nerve to call me a fucking rapist!”

Isaac flies at him but Johan grabs him before he can reach Frank, scooping Isaac up round the middle and lifting him off his feet.

“Get your fucking hands off me, you Swedish twat.” Isaac twists in his arms and punches him in the side of the head, forcing him to let go.

“I’m going to the papers,” Frank continues, “as soon as I get back to the UK. They’ll have a fucking field day with you, and then MI5 or Scotland Yard or whatever fucking establishment deals with scum like you will come over here and drag your lying, kidnapping, violent arse to prison.”

Gabe angles the torch from Frank to Isaac. He’s standing sideways on to the group now, a wide smile on his face.

“What makes you think you’re going to go back to the UK, Frank?”

“Because I’m not staying here, you twat.” Frank squirms back onto his knees and the torchlight flashes back to him. There’s more blood on the side of his head now, his right eye puffy and closed.

“That’s funny, because you don’t look like you’re going anywhere in a hurry.”