Fergus gritted his teeth. He wanted to lie down. By now, Meggy should have been introduced to Elspeth, the two of them getting to know one another in their little flat. He was overdue his painkillers, and there was a sensation in his left arm that had started off no more than a pinching and was now circling around, vice-like, making it hard to breathe.

‘I’m not simple. You shouldn’t say that. It’s rude.’

‘You abducted me. You think your wife’s going to care about anything else? Where is she, anyway? Is she here?’

Meggy turned and ran. Finally, Fergus thought. It would be easier to control her deeper inside the house than in the kitchen.

Reaching for a carving knife, long ago hidden on a high shelf, Fergus followed her in as she threw open doors, shouting at the top of her voice, screaming at him to stay away from her as she retreated to the stairs, taking them two at a time. At last, in the upper corridor, Meggy stopped, her entire concentration aimed at the silverware dangling from his right hand.

‘Wait there,’ he ordered, pointing the knife in her direction.

There was a single door off the landing. Fergus walked to it, checking an upper eyehole that was situated in the usual place, then kneeling down, knife still extended in her direction, to take a quick look through a second peephole that had been inserted at thigh height in the door. All clear. He detached a set of keys from his belt and threw them at her feet.

‘Largest silver key,’ he said. ‘Open it up.’

Sluggish tears plopped onto the frayed carpet at her feet. She was all fought out. Between the pulsatile waves of pain in his temples and the rapidly worsening ice-pick sensation in his chest, Fergus could only be grateful. Snatching up the keys, Meggy expended her ebbing energy attempting to hurl a last insult before opening the door. All that arrived was a pitiful mewing sound.

‘Tired,’ Fergus murmured. ‘Leave the keys in the lock and go in. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘What’s in there?’ Meggy whispered, peering inside, along the darkened corridor to where a single lamp cast light in a bedroom.

‘New mother. Maybe you’ll like this one better.’

He pushed Meggy forwards, locked the door behind her and stood at the top of the stairs. The steps beneath were a tide wavering towards him then away. Fergus extended quivering fingers, hoping to find the handrail in the same place he’d left it, but distance was stretching.

‘Can’t get back down,’ he muttered. ‘Light’s gone off. Where’s switch?’

He reached out blindly in his own personal dark, the movement catching his brain unawares and turning him sideways. One foot stumbled over the other.