I can see a car, stationary in the field behind the pub, its passenger door open. The interior light is weak, but I think someone’s sitting in the car. To the side I can make out Nick with the old man who came looking for him. And Richard looks to be approaching them.

‘Richard’s going up to them,’ I say in hushed tones. ‘He took his time – he must’ve been assessing the situation, too, before waltzing in there.’

‘Let me see.’ Davina shuffles along the wall and we swap places so she can take a look.

‘Ah. It doesn’t appear to be a dangerous scene, does it?’

‘You sound disappointed.’

‘Confused, more like,’ Davina says, moving away from the building’s edge again.

‘Because?’

‘Because it isn’t what I expected. They look like they’re just calmly talking. Don’t you think it’s all a bit odd?’

‘Yes, it is. The whole night has been odd – the past few months, too.’

‘And it’s culminated in us watching three men and a lady in a field.’ She gives a near-hysterical laugh. The night has been bizarre, but maybe the situation isn’t as grave as I imagined.

‘What lady?’ I ask, as Davina’s words sink in.

‘Are you joking? Didn’t you see her? She’s in the car. And why do I get the feeling she’s the centre of everything? The answer to what’s going on is tied up with her, I feel sure of it.’

I push past Davina to look again.

‘This is unbelievable. Barb is with them? How? She was at yours not long ago.’

‘She appears to have come along for the ride.’

As I squint to see if I can figure out what’s happening – Barb seems to shoot up and out of the car and goes towards Richard.

Then she stumbles backwards. I can see her white face even from this distance.

Something is wrong; very wrong. I sense it.

Without further thought, I walk out from the cover of the building and stride towards them. I hear a hiss from Davina, then footsteps. She’s not letting me go in alone.

‘What the hell is going on?’ I shout as I walk up to the gathered group.

Everyone turns to look at me – each face is waxy, shocked. But I realise that’s nothing to do with me turning up. Something else is going on here. I look at Barb. She looks dishevelled; her hair is matted with drying blood.

‘Barb? What did he do?’ I look to the old man. Then to Nick. Why isn’t he doing something?

‘He tied her up, bundled her in the car and brought her here. Made sure I came too.’ Nick’s voice has lost its power. He doesn’t appear to be the man he once was. I’m suddenly afraid.