His phone buzzed again in his pocket, but he wouldn’t answer it now; he was too drunk not to say what he was thinking and he knew he wouldn’t be thinking it forever, so better to avoid saying it. For once, he was going to be sensible and wait until he had a chance to calm down before he did any permanent damage to their relationship. Imogen was too important to have this disagreement with. He had also lost count of how much he had drunk, but he was way past merry. After polishing off the dregs of what was left in his tumbler, Adrian left.

The streets were quiet, almost eerie. Considering how busy the pub had been, Adrian expected more people to be out, but owing to that pub’s late licence, most of the other bars in this area were already closed and any other people had moved on to the nightclubs, none of which were situated in this part of town. He walked down the hill towards St Thomas. It was a brisk fifteen-minute walk to his house and he had done it a thousand times or more. After the few people he saw on the lower part of Fore Street, the road ahead emptied with barely even a passing car.

Even through his drunken haze, Adrian’s instincts were sharp. Something was wrong; he wasn’t alone. Walking faster, he crossed the roundabout with ease, as there wasn’t even a car on the road. The silence was noticeable. Almost suffocating. There was an apocalyptic atmosphere, where anything could happen.

He kept his eyes ahead, looking for the St Thomas the Apostle church tower in the distance, which meant he was getting close to home. He approached the railway bridge on Cowick Street and heard the sound of a bottle being kicked somewhere behind him.

‘Who’s there?’ Adrian said, pausing for a moment.

Silence.

The red brick railway passage in front of him was like the entrance to another world, so close and yet so far. The archway was pitch-black. He could feel danger now. His skin prickled and his hairs stood on end.

Adrian picked up the pace and started to jog towards the railway arch. He could hear footsteps, running faster than him, but couldn’t tell if they were in front or behind him. Had someone followed him from the pub? He hadn’t noticed anyone watching him, but then again, he hadn’t really been paying attention.

Wishing he wasn’t so drunk, he kept moving forwards. The surge of adrenaline was sobering.