The intercom suddenly flared into life above us – the train manager alerting the handful of passengers that we would shortly be arriving in Doncaster. He turned around at the sudden blast of noise from the speaker behind him. As he moved I slipped the recording device into my lap. He span back to me just as I leapt from my seat and lunged for the taut emergency cord that dangled above our seat. He grabbed for my wrist but I managed to wriggle out of his grasp and squirm out of the seat before he could tug me back. I heard him growl my name and then there was a screech and hissing and blaring of metal upon metal as the train screamed to a juddering halt. Suitcases clattered down from overhead and I glanced back to see my pursuer falling over a loose plastic case as I ran for the dividing door, shooting a look back to see him reaching into his inside pocket.

A flash of blue in front of me. The train guard, red-faced, pushing through the dividing door, demanding to know who had pulled the cord, if I was hurt, what was happening …

I pushed past him, grabbing his keys from the chain at his waist, unclipping them and slipping them into my pocket along with the tape recorder. I slid the door shut behind me, fumbling with the keys, listening as my pursuer shouted a volley of Glaswegian venom in the face of the guard who was blocking his way. I felt the key turn in the lock. Heard a ferocious hammering on the glass behind me.

The train was completely static. I was standing in the harsh yellow light of the dividing area between the two carriages. The window had been slid open on the exterior door and the darkness beyond looked cold and empty.

I didn’t even stop to think. I leaned through the window and opened the train door from the outside. I tottered there for a moment, looking down at the gleaming metal tracks, the damp stones, and then on, to the empty fields and the rain-speckled darkness beyond. I looked back. Heard a crash as my pursuer put his elbow through the toughened glass.

I looked down. It was six or seven feet to the ground. I had the wrong shoes on and I was miles from anything that felt safe.

Felicity, I thought. It was just one word, but it flooded me with panic and energy. I’d sent her to the same place I’d sent Walt. And Walt was clearly a very wanted man.

I jumped.

Landed hard. Rolled right.

Heard the hiss and the roar and saw the terrible white light.

Looked up into the face of an onrushing train.

FELICITY

Transcript 0022, recorded December 1, 2016

‘No,’ said the little man. ‘No, not unless we have to.’