‘Hi, it’s me. It’s, uh, it’s George.’ He hates how weak his voice sounds.

‘What do you want, George?’

‘The thing I called about earlier. I, um, I was just thinking …’

‘It’s a little too late for thinking, George.’

‘Oh, yeah, sorry for calling so late. It’s just that …’

A soft chuckle cuts him off. ‘When I say it’s too late, I mean just that. It’s too late.’

The emphasis on the last two words stops him cold. ‘What have you done? What have you gone and done?’ His voice rises, a worried edge to it.

‘Goodnight, George.’

Click. The line goes dead. He stares at the receiver for a second then drops it, bolting for his car. The ignition coughs a few times, and starts grudgingly. He narrowly misses reversing into a bin, but puts it down to mild panic as opposed to whisky. He’s driven in far worse states, another thing he adds to his I must stop doing list. The address she gave on her statement is around twenty minutes from here, but he shaves a couple off his time, thanks to two debatable amber lights and cornering like a Formula One driver. His is the only car on the road as he turns onto her street. Did she say number 42 or 62? Condensation has crept across his windows as he’s driven, and it’s like looking through fog. He rolls down the window with one hand, steers with the other, squinting like Mr Magoo to see door numbers.

One minute the road is empty, the next she’s there, like a magic trick minus the smoke and mirrors. George blinks and it’s like snapping a picture. His headlights illuminate her like a leading lady. Her eyes are wide, mouth open, moving, but he can’t hear what she’s saying. A small smudge of something dark on her cheek. Make-up? Blood? Her arms are behind her back as if she’s got a surprise for him. He flinches, spinning the wheel to the left as he slams on the brakes, but it’s a futile gesture. The sickening thud that goes through him is off the Richter scale. The front bumper almost misses her. Almost. The corner catches her across the knees, chops her down, bounces her backwards off a dirty yellow car. He doesn’t see her rebound, but feels a second impact towards the back of his vehicle.