Ged kept looking over his shoulder and as soon as he left the station, he got on his toes. His heart raced; he still had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right. Was the dibble on his case, was he being watched, was something happening? The night was cold and seemed darker than any other, pitch black. He dipped his head low and cautiously set off on his usual route before picking up his pace and breaking into a jog, still looking over his shoulder every few seconds. It was like his mind was playing tricks on him. He could hear footsteps behind him as he cut through a housing estate. He started to sprint. His breath was ragged as he ran through the dark entry.

Rustling, banging, shouting.

Ged fell to the floor as the first blow hit his head. Noises, frantic voices, hands rummaging in his pockets. He lifted his head up; his vision was blurred, all he could see was silhouettes. Feet booting him, his body curled up in a small ball as he tried to protect himself. ‘I’ve got it, sorted,’ said a voice somewhere above him. Ged rolled onto his side, blood seeping out of the corner of his mouth. His fingers splayed across the cold grey concrete flags as he tried to lift himself up from the floor. There was a burning pain in the side of his stomach like someone had poured boiling water over him. A pain like he’d never felt before. It felt like a hot poker had been shoved deep into his flesh He reached down and touched it. His fingers were wet, covered with bright red claret. He’d been stabbed.

Ged could barely make it onto his feet, his fingers clasped the cold wall. He didn’t seem to be able to speak or call for help. It was like someone had locked his words inside his mouth. He looked down the entry; he could see a figure approaching. For fuck’s sake they were coming back to finish him off. It was no use, every bit of strength from his body had left him, he was a sitting duck. He covered his head and sank to the floor and prepared himself for more beatings.

There was silence, nothing was happening. Then a soft voice. ‘I knew this was going to happen. I seen them following you when you got off the train. You’ve been set up.’ Ged lifted his head and tried to focus on the face he could see in front of him which was swimming in and out of focus. It looked familiar. It looked like …

‘Nancy,’ he managed. ‘They’ve stabbed me, get me home, please get me home.’