‘Well …’ Parfit looked dubious, but a glance at his watch told him they didn’t have very long before they would be boarding. He could visualise that bottle of Glenlivet sitting waiting for him …

The door of the first cubicle, the one that had been occupied when they came in, snapped open. A teenager came out, his face flushed, and made for the exit, his eyes to the floor.

‘Wonder what he’s been up to,’ said Parfit with a wink. He checked his watch again. ‘Don’t be long,’ he pleaded.

‘Two minutes,’ Dreyfuss said, watching in the mirror as Parfit left. Alone, he relaxed a little more. He let the water out. As it gurgled down the plughole, a man in his forties pushed open the door and entered the toilets, nodding towards Dreyfuss as he made for the urinals.

‘Helluva day,’ he commented, but Dreyfuss wasn’t sure whether the man was talking to him or to himself. He ran more water. The man came to the basin next to him, gave his hands a quick rinse and rubbed them vigorously beneath the fan dryer. Then he left, the dryer still whirring away noisily. Dreyfuss splashed his face again, rubbing at his eyes this time, pressing fingers to sockets. He spat some water back into the basin and re-examined himself in the mirror. A toilet was flushing, and the cubicle door behind him opened. A squat man wearing spectacles and a shirt too small at the neck came waddling out. Dreyfuss smiled into the mirror, and the man seemed to smile back, but kept on coming …

Dreyfuss saw the cheese wire. It was twisted around the man’s pudgy little hands, wads of cloth stopping it cutting into the pulpy skin. It took no more than a second for the man to hoist it over Dreyfuss’ bowed head and pull tight. But in that second, Dreyfuss managed to prise his fingers between the wire and his unprotected throat, so that when the wire tightened, it cut into finger joints rather than neck. But it hurt like hell, and kept on digging, rending the tissue, sending blood trickling down Dreyfuss’ right hand. He watched in horror in the mirror as his eyes began to bulge, his tongue to twitch. The man was pulling him backwards, putting him off balance. With his free hand, Dreyfuss lashed out, finding first the man’s glasses, then his eyes, gouging at them. The man cried out, but the noise was all but masked by the greater noise of the cubicle finishing its flush and the dryer finishing its cycle.