13

In the distance, a figure was moving away. Hurrying. As it passed beneath a street light, he could see it was Emily. Her coat, her headscarf.

‘EM!’ he raced after her, still unable to feel his feet.

His phone pinged again.

12

He increased his pace, but Emily was increasing hers, too. As he passed under another street light it went out, as did the one ahead, and she disappeared from view in the darkness. He carried on, flat out, but didn’t feel any sense of exertion. She appeared beneath another street light, then that went out, too. The rest of the hill ahead was pitch black.

‘EMILY!’ he yelled.

11

He carried on in the darkness, impervious to the wind and the sleet. Darkness that was getting heavier and denser with every step.

Ping.

10

The beam of his phone torch was weakening; as if the dark was absorbing it like blotting paper.

9

‘Em, wait, wait for me, I’m coming with you, I’ll help you with the fridges, the van – we’ll get the van started, somehow.’

8

He arrived at the entrance to Cold Hill Park, rushed in and turned left into Lakeview Drive. Ahead he saw a blaze of lights, far brighter than the street lights, which were now all back on.

7

Text her?

6

He tried to find their message thread.

5

His fingers wouldn’t move properly. He couldn’t make the keys work.

4

Rounding the curve, he heard the rattle of a generator. A female police officer with a clipboard stood in front of police tape stretched across the street. Beyond it, resting on its roof, was Emily’s van, just visible through a team of fire and rescue workers in their bulky outfits. A battery of floodlights on stands shone down on the scene. The tractor was a short distance further on. Jason saw the same cluster of emergency vehicles that had been there earlier. To the right was an ambulance, its interior lights on. Another ambulance was parked just in front of it, as well as a paramedic’s car.

A young man in a sharp suit was standing by the officer, with a notepad.

Ping.

3

Jason’s throat tightened. He broke into a run and reached the police officer. ‘My wife, you have to let me through. That’s my wife’s van!’

There was no reaction from her.

‘Joel Barber from the Argus,’ the man in the sharp suit said to the officer. ‘I just need a quick statement on what’s happened here.’

‘We have a multiple fatality accident,’ she answered, matter-of-factly. ‘Two confirmed dead – one male and one female. Another male is trapped, and a female is in that ambulance and critical.’ She nodded at the vehicle. ‘I don’t have any further information.’

‘Can you give me any names?’ the reporter persisted.

‘I’m afraid not, sir, no, not until next of kin have been informed. Now I must ask you to leave.’

‘Can you just confirm that one of the victims is the Sussex artist, Jason Danes?’