‘Well, sympathy is going to be really useful when he stabs you in your sleep one dark night!’

Alerted by Tess’s audible gasp, Fiona stopped and hastily backtracked. ‘Not that he would, of course. The man’s a wimp, a total loser! Me and my big mouth. Are you all right, Tess?’

Teeth clenched, Tess stubbornly fought her way back from the place where Fiona’s angry remark had sent her, ignoring the icy fist in her stomach. Her chin lifted. To feel fear meant the crazy had won.

‘Nothing two aspirin and a cup of tea won’t cure,’ she said, struggling wearily to her feet.

‘Turn that thing down, you lot, or I’ll switch off the cartoons... Sorry about that,’ Fiona continued, raising her voice above the din that Tess could now hear in the background. ‘My dear sister is taking a bath and the twins are running rings around me. Under-fives and a white carpet are not a good combination...who knew?’

‘You go and save your carpet, Fi.’

‘Are you sure you’re all right? You sound awful.’

Tess managed a hoarse chuckle. ‘I look even worse.’ She pushed a strand of lank hair from her face and turned her back on her distorted reflection in the polished surface of the kettle. A glance in the mirror, when she’d dragged herself out of bed earlier, had already revealed her red nose, dark circled eyes and ghostly pallor. ‘But I’m fine.’

A snort of exasperation echoed down the line.

‘All right,’ she admitted. ‘I feel terrible but I’m going to make myself a cuppa and go back to bed.’

‘Good plan. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Putting on the kettle, Tess opened the fridge and pulled out an open carton of milk. Her congested nose meant it wasn’t until it landed in a congealed gloopy mess in the bottom of her mug that she realised it had soured.

Deprived of it, suddenly all Tess could think about was a cup of tea. The corner shop was less than two hundred yards from her front door...if she took the shortcut through the alley.

Tess, still in her pyjamas, left the flat huddled in the duffel coat that Fiona’s boyfriend had left behind the last time he and Fi had come to supper. He was a slight man but the coat still swamped Tess’s petite frame.

Slow and steady, she counselled her shaking knees. Like I have a choice! She had made it halfway down the alley when she heard the helpful policewoman’s soothing voice in her head.

‘Look, don’t get paranoid. You’ve done right to remove your online presence—a pain, I know, but the anonymity makes people like this guy feel brave. As for the rest, just take a few common-sense precautions—if you’re out stay with friends, and if you’re alone keep to public places where there are plenty of people and the lighting is good. Very often guys like this fasten onto someone else.’

Tess’s heart gave an extra-hard thud as she stopped dead, suddenly very conscious of the oppressive darkness that seemed to press in on her.

She had put herself in exactly the sort of situation the police had suggested she avoid.

Teetering feverishly on the brink of panic, she took a couple of deep breaths that made her cough, not calm. The hacking sound echoed off the high walls on either side as she resisted the messages from her feverish brain that made her want to turn around and run. That was a bad idea on two counts: she wasn’t capable of running and she was actually closer now to the other side—the main street, where there were lights and people and safety.

‘You’ll be fine...fine, totally fine, you are not a victim...not a victim...’ Her mantra stalled as the figure appeared at the other end of the alley. He barely paused before he began to walk towards her.

Tess opened her mouth to scream and nothing came out. She was living a nightmare, the horribly familiar recurrent one where she was paralyzed. She couldn’t breathe. As if something malevolent were sitting on her chest—someone malevolent.

‘Relax, I’m here to look after you, darling—’

It was not a scream but it was a noise. Desperately she tried again to raise the alarm...

* * *

‘Without knowing the details of your sister’s case I can’t be sure, but from what you tell me I doubt very much if she would be a suitable candidate for the treatment.’

Don’t kill the messenger!

Danilo let his eyelids lower to hide his expression before letting the tense breath escape his lungs in a carefully managed exhalation.

‘But if you would like me to see her...?’

Danilo’s lashes lifted.

The man sitting opposite saw the question in the dark depths. ‘Obviously you’ll want to discuss it with her?’

‘Who?’

‘Your sister. I understand that she had already had several unsuccessful treatments?’

From somewhere the memory of the angry words of the kid he had warned off his sister the previous month came back to him. ‘You don’t want to see me here again, but what about what Nat wants? She wants to see me, and I want to see her. I love her. When are you going to let her live her own life?’