Groggily I took in the other faces, pausing when I came to Cranham. He’d put on even more weight since I’d last seen him and he looked downright silly standing there, wiping the brick-dust off his suit with a big silk handkerchief and then wiping his sweaty face with it, leaving smears on his cheeks that looked like war paint. He was looking back at me, face screwed up; a toddler with constipation. He was trying to work out how he knew me. Trying to work out whether he was in danger or among friends.

I heard a burst of that funny language again. The man who’d first spoken it, hours before, was leaning by the back wall, his manner as nonchalant as Walt’s. He was a little man too and his teeth, in that light, were enough to give you nightmares. He was talking to Sera. Walt, at my side, spoke briefly in something that sounded like Spanish. Sera looked from one to the other and then to her own bloodied brother, and then sank into the chair that Pelletier offered her. Another suited man picked up the contraption that I’d knocked sideways as I fell through the roof. I recognized it as a video projector: a fancy little thing all sleek and shiny.

‘This is a shambles, Walter,’ said Cranham, shaking his finger in Walt’s direction. ‘You gave us your word of honour, man. This was a safe space, a protected space!’

Walt grinned in Cranham’s direction, shaking his head as if enjoying a private joke. ‘I shall speak to the owner,’ he said. ‘See whether or not there are any more skeletons in the closets.’

Cranham blushed, his cheeks turning the colour of ripe plums. ‘An outrage,’ he muttered. ‘A bloody outrage!’

‘Apologies for the rumpus, gentlemen,’ said Pelletier, smoothly. ‘It’s not a party without a cabaret, huh? Can we freshen your glasses? I’m sure your hearts are pumping hard so if you need a moment to catch your breaths, don’t be in the least bit embarrassed. You’re among friends.’

I swallowed some of the blood and gagged on it. Blinked the hot tears away. Slumped down in the chair and tried to make myself as small as I could, to blend into the upholstery and somehow disappear.

There were general mutterings from the assembled figures: a few little laughs and jibes at one another’s expense. None of them wanted to admit to having had a fright. They were like schoolboys teasing one another for jumping during the scary part of a story. They got themselves smoothed over and sat back down. I tried to make some connections between them – to work out which of the men were together. There were half a dozen figures standing in the shadows and each seemed to provide some kind of security service for the figures in the chairs.

‘If you would be so kind.’