I see a flash of green behind him from which Emily’s face emerges, then a burst of energy from the green goddess as she brings the metal bar down on the back of his neck with all her might. He slumps forward onto me and I feel the full weight of his bulk on my face and chest. I manage to roll him slightly and crawl out from underneath him. I stand above him on the lawn catching my breath, not knowing whether I should try to finish him off or attend to Emily. His eyes are shut and his chest seems to be gasping for air. Emily has fallen back to the floor and I can see that the big gaping hole in the top of her foot is bleeding badly. I run into the kitchen, grab a tea towel and start to tie it tightly around her foot in an attempt to stem the flow of blood. The tea towel is covered in images of brightly coloured novelty socks.

‘Shit, Emily. Are you okay? It looks really bad…’

She doesn’t reply other than with a strangled whimper. I hear Tommy let out a short sharp gasp of breath, then see him move one of his hands slowly onto his chest. I have to get her out of here before he comes round. I finish tying the knot in the tea towel and lift her up into my arms.

‘Put her down,’ says Tommy.

I look over to where he is picking himself up off the grass. He is pointing a gun directly at me.

‘Put her down,’ he repeats. ‘We don’t want her getting shot by mistake, do we?’

I do as I am told and place her back on the lawn as gently as I can. The gun he is holding looks identical to the one in McCoy’s office. ‘That’s not a real gun, Tommy. Come on, let’s pack this in and get an ambulance for Emily. She’s hurt really badly.’

‘Would you rather I shot you or shot Emily? It’s your choice. I couldn’t give a fuck,’ he says in a tone that suggests he absolutely and resolutely really could not give an actual fuck. I look more closely at the gun and begin to doubt that it is the same type as the one belonging to McCoy. It seems to be bigger and has a different sheen to its surface. I could be in real danger here.

‘Maybe just don’t shoot anyone, Tommy?’ I say.

‘It’s an option, but not one that I favour. Go on, if you had to choose, which of you would it be?’

‘Shoot me, Tommy,’ I say. ‘Yeah, go on, shoot me and see how that turns out for you. And I tell you what, why don’t you just shoot yourself straight afterwards and let Emily live her life like you’ve never let her?’