“Well, well, well,” Isaac says, looking at each one of us in turn. His trainers are caked in mud and his T-shirt clings damply to his body. “Look who we have here. Are you going to come back to the house like good boys and girls, or do we have to do this the difficult way?”

“Where’s Leanne?” Al says. “Does she know you locked me in the basement?”

Daisy clutches Isaac’s arm. “You locked her in the basement?”

“I did, yes.” He looks at her steadily. “They colluded to try and kill me, and I had to separate them for my own safety, and for the safety of everyone at Ekanta Yatra.”

Daisy looks across at me and Al, and squints her eyes as though she’s trying to focus. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her as drunk. “You tried to kill Isaac?”

“It wasn’t like that, Daisy.” I take a step towards her but Isaac jabs the knife towards me, forcing me to stop.

“To answer your question, Al” – Isaac says the words slowly and deliberately but he can’t stop the slur that makes the words run into each other – “I told Leanne to stay at Ekanta Yatra, where she’s safe.”

“Don’t you want me to be safe?” Daisy whines, but when she tries to rest her head on his shoulder, he shrugs her off.

“And yes, Al,” Isaac continues, “Leanne knew I’d put you in the basement. She thought we could help you – God knows you need it – but you fought us every step of the way. That didn’t stop Leanne loving you and believing in you, but you crossed the line when you gave Emma the knife.”

“How about you just let us go?” Johan says.

“How about you stop telling me what I should do? You’ve always been a fucking liability, but I had no idea what a sneaky bastard you actually are.”

“You need to look in the mirror, Isaac.”

“And you need to shut the fuck up or I’ll twist this between your girlfriend’s eyes. Although,” he adds, glancing at me, “that might actually be an improvement. I always thought her eyes were a little too close together.”

Daisy snorts with laughter and moves to slip an arm around his waist. The dry soil shifts under her feet and she has to cling on to him to keep her balance. She points at Al with her free hand.

“Stop being a dick and go back to the party. You can fuck off, though, Emma.” She laughs again, her head rolling back on her neck, her eyes half-closed.

Al, standing beside me with her hands clenched at her sides, is still gasping for breath. The wheezing has stopped and instead she’s making little “uh, uh” sounds as she sucks hollowly at the air.