They all crowded round, keen to see, preventing Greg from having any view, even after someone produced a head torch.

The swearing, however, made it clear that it was something horrendous.

They were standing in a huddle now, talking excitedly, trying to make up their minds what to do with what they’d found.

Josh eventually took charge, and his orders were to get out of there and quick.

And to keep their fucking mouths shut about it, he declared, as they swiftly abandoned the scene, moving back into the woods in shocked silence.

Greg waited until all sounds of them had faded into the distance before approaching the shattered plinth. The moon, half hidden by a cloud now, could scarcely illuminate the extent of the damage.

The smell hit him first, easily distinguishable from the piss and alcohol they’d doused the area with.

You couldn’t deal with death on the hills the way he did and not immediately recognize the scent of decay, but this was no deer, sheep or bird carcass he could smell.

Greg retrieved his head torch from his pocket and, putting it on, switched on the circle of light to search for the source.

The black plastic had been cleanly cut open, probably by Billy, when he’d spotted the mysterious bundle.

The smell, so much stronger now, made him retch and he swiftly turned away, but not before he had made out tendrils of long blonde hair and the remains of a ravaged human face.

Greg

Opening the front door as quietly as he could, he headed straight for the shower. No way could he get back into bed beside Joanne smelling like this.

Despite soaping himself all over he imagined he could still smell and taste the scent of decay in his mouth and nostrils.

Eventually he emerged to dump his clothes in the washing machine and, donning a fresh pair of boxers, he went straight for the whisky bottle and poured himself a large one, drinking it down in one go.

It had to be her. That’s what his brain kept repeating. Who else could it be?

But how had she got there?

He stopped that line of thought. It was too dangerous a route to go down.

He sat at the table and poured himself another shot.

He found himself suddenly furious at Josh for having gone to the Party House. For having smashed up the hot tub. For finding her.

Hadn’t they had enough horror? Hadn’t they dealt with enough death?

Yet here it was, back again. He sipped the whisky this time, trying to think through what he would do.