‘I fear that you no longer think you can trust me,’ said Walt, the radio sizzling like an egg frying in hot fat. ‘I ask you to reconsider. I didn’t want you involved but now I am a man short and have enough plates to spin without having to worry about you clattering your way onto the stage. Stay where you are and I shall send a gentleman to escort you the last leg of the journey. You must be tired. And I know you will have questions. Put the gun down and place your hands on the wheel and I shall make sure you are treated like a maharani.’

I heard the faintest echo to his words, as if he was speaking inside a small, empty room. I looked down at the gun on the passenger seat and tried to use good judgement. Would handing myself to Walt offer sanctuary or fresh dangers? He knew about John and Felicity, that was clear. But was he the one threatening their safety or the one in the best position to save their lives?

‘Cordelia, you can’t do this on your own. There are people involved who will not waste a moment’s thought on ending your life, or the lives of your friends. And while that might actually suit my purpose, I have done my utmost to keep you from danger, even if that may seem hard to believe. Please, leave the gun where it is and keep both hands on the wheel. I give you my word, no harm will …’

I heard him at the last possible moment – the faintest rustle of a boot disturbing the long, damp grass. I saw him at my window – yellowy eyes looming from the slot between jacket and boilerman’s cap. I grabbed for the gun but he moved quicker than I did, dropping the radio and lunging forward. He struck me with the butt of his gun, just below the jawline. The world went dark: consciousness disappearing as if swirling down a perfect hole in the centre of my vision.

The last thing I saw was Walt looking down at me and checking my pulse.

He shook his head. ‘Sorry, Hinny.’

And then there was nothing but the dark.

FELICITY

Transcript 0025, recorded December 1, 2016