David felt so grateful to Jenny. Yes, she was angry, yes she was upset, but she had every right to be. Instead of leaving him, she’d given him another chance. But his brain was fogged and slow, and there were too many tendrils to clutch. He didn’t want to get rid of everything; the idea filled him with painful panic. Everything he’d collected, preserved and revered reminded him of how much he’d achieved: Marc vanquished; Sal disposed of; Jenny saved. They formed the stage of his life’s purpose; he needed them.

In the attic room he collected the phone he’d used when he was being Ryan, and put it in his pocket. Then he went to see Mother. She was awake, and it was one of her good days. She held his hand as he knelt by her, patted it and smiled.

‘You’re tired,’ she said.

‘Yes.’

Pat pat. ‘All tired out.’

‘Yes,’ David said. Then: ‘Jenny’s upset with me.’

Pat pat. ‘And why’s that?’

‘I made a mistake. I made a stupid mistake.’

‘Well, I’m sure you can sort it out,’ his mother twinkled at him. ‘You’ve always been a very resourceful boy.’

David swallowed hard and looked at the carpet. He didn’t want Mother to see him cry. ‘What should I do?’ he muttered.

In his back pocket, Ryan’s phone beeped with Freddie. Catherine winced and closed her eyes. ‘Such an annoying thing. Such a horrible, horrible thing.’

‘Yes, he is,’ David told her, and silenced the phone.

‘You must do as you think best,’ Catherine told him with great solemnity. ‘You always know what to do. You always do the right thing.’

And David nodded. He felt his mind calm.

They made plans to watch University Challenge that night, at eight. He brought her some soup, and watched her eat it, and then gave her a Nytol, telling her it was a vitamin pill. When Catherine began to get sleepy, he helped her into bed, and kissed her forehead.

He then crushed up four risperidone and added them to a special smoothie – carrot, lime and kale – Jenny’s favourite. Upstairs, Jenny was wrapped in a bathrobe, rubbing at her damp hair.

‘I made you your special juice,’ David said humbly, put it beside her bed. ‘I am sorry.’

She sighed. ‘I know you are. I just wish you’d think about things before you do them.’ She looked at him in the mirror. She took a sip.

‘Is it nice?’

She took another sip. ‘Mmmmm. It’s all right.’

‘I am sorry. I am you know.’

She frowned at him. ‘I’m going to have a rest and then head back to Freddie’s.’

‘OK,’ he said humbly, and left the room.

Half an hour later she was lying like a carved angel on her bed, half under and half on top of the duvet. He tucked her in, gave her a kiss. When he backed out of the room again he turned the key in the lock.

The pills would hopefully keep both Jenny and Mother asleep until he came back. Back in Catherine’s room, he gently placed his noise-cancelling headphones over her ears; if by any chance Jenny woke and started to shout, Mother wouldn’t hear and get upset. He felt awful about tricking Jenny this way, but he knew that she’d be so relieved that he’d sorted everything out, that she’d forgive him. Once again he was pleasantly surprised at just how well he coped during a crisis.

He took out Ryan’s phone. It was a message from Freddie:

I can meet anytime. Tonight?

David replied:

OK the Narrowboat at 8? There are things about David that I think you should know. I’ve told Jenny too.

Freddie asked Ryan:

How do you know Jenny?

Will explain tonight. I want to help. Please don’t talk to anyone/tell anyone about this.

David pressed send.

Then he took a spade and trowel from the shed and began to dig up the Kitten Box.

Driving through the less salubrious area of the city, David stopped at a poky little place called Da Fone Shop. There he bought an unlocked phone and a sim card with cash. Back in the car, he texted Freddie.

It’s Jen, I’m using this phone. DON’T call the other one! Will explain later. Have you heard from Ryan?

Freddie replied immediately.

Yes, where are you? Is everything OK?

I’m with him now. Lot’s happened but need to tell you face-to-face… don’t worry though we’re both safe

Freddie would bite at that.

Meet now then? Come here?

We’re driving. Narrowboat nearer and your place might not be safe. Will explain I promise XOXO

What’s happening????

David smiled and turned off the phone.

* * *

It was eight o’clock, and David’s legs were cramping from slouching in his car for the last few hours. He hadn’t wanted to get out and walk about the city in case he got picked up on CCTV. He’d parked in a street that backed onto the canal. There were no houses close by, no cameras, but even so he’d taken the precaution of taping cardboard over the license plates.

He closed his eyes, breathed deeply. Opened them.

Now.

Ryan messaged Freddie:

Is Jenny with you?

No! She was with you, wasn’t she? What’s happened?

We got separated she said she was coming to see you, look around for her.

David was sweating suddenly.

She’s not here I would’ve seen her What’s happened?

Find her!

What’s happening?

David could practically hear his squeal. Then the text to ‘Jenny’s’ phone came through.

CALL ME!

And the first act had concluded; it was time for Jenny to take the stage.

Come and get me something bad’s happened I’m under the canal bridge behind the pub please come now!

He wasn’t sweating any longer. A strange calm descended. He opened the car door and stepped out into the cold air, towards the canal, and the bridge – the same bridge under which Marc had died. He carried the same knife too. There was a beautiful symmetry to that.

‘Jen?’ Freddie shouted.

He was near.

David swapped phones

QUIET!

Ryan messaged.

I’ve found her Please hurry!

Then:

I can see you, stay there

Freddie’s figure loomed through the mist. He stopped a few metres away with his back to David, and David closed his eyes. The smell of piss under the bridge. The lap of the water. The faint music… it was just as it had been all those years ago with Marc. And then he ran smoothly at Freddie, knocked the phone out of his hand, and thrust the knife just below his shoulder blade. Freddie spun round, and David had time to register the recognition on his face, had time to smile at him. When Freddie slid into the water, he hardly made a noise, surprising for such a fat man.

David found Freddie’s phone and turned it off. Back in the car, he removed the sim card, and put it in a plastic bag along with Ryan’s phone and the unlocked mobile he’d just bought. Then he removed the cardboard from the license plates, slowly drove out of the road, and headed towards the motorway. It was a roundabout way to get home, but he couldn’t risk being seen driving in a crowded area.

Halfway home he pulled into a farm track, tied up the bag and smashed the phones with a hammer so no pieces of them could be found in his car. Every few miles he delved into the bag, took a pinch of the debris and threw it out of the window. Ryan, Freddie and ‘Jenny’ were soon scattered across fifteen miles of muddy country. He’d burn the sim cards later.

He arrived back at home just after ten, washed the knife carefully, scrubbing the serrations with a Brillo pad, put it in a clean plastic bag and hid it under the sink. He should get rid of it, he knew, but… tomorrow. Do it tomorrow. And the hat too.

Both Jenny and Catherine were asleep. He walked around the house putting all the clocks back two and a half hours, put Catch-up TV on ready to go, and then gently shook Catherine awake.

‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘Quite a long time,’ he told her. ‘It’s nearly eight.’ She blinked slowly. ‘Do you still want to watch University Challenge?’ She was tired. He levered her out of the bed, put her slippers on her unresisting feet. ‘Come on, let’s go to the sitting room.’

‘It feels later. It feels like it’s the middle of the night,’ she said, shuffling beside him. The grandfather clock in the hall struck eight, just as they sat down.

Jenny woke to find David lying beside her.

‘What time is it?’ She sat up. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘For the past twelve hours,’ David told her.

She put the light on. Her face was flushed, her hair tangled. ‘Shit, I was meant to call Freddie.’

‘It’s too late now,’ he told her.

‘What d’you mean? “Too late”?’ she said sharply.

‘I mean it’s midnight,’ he said.

‘I’ll text him then, where’s my phone?’

‘I looked in the car, but I didn’t find it. It’ll turn up,’ he said and smiled reassuringly.

She looked hard at him. The light from the bedside lamp shone through her hair, creating a nimbus of light, dazzling. ‘I’ve got a headache,’ she said. ‘And I’m hungry.’

He scurried off to make her some toast and brought it up on a tray, along with some paracetamol and fresh orange juice.

Her expression softened. ‘You are good to me,’ she said.

‘I try,’ he muttered. ‘And when I don’t succeed, I try to put it right; you know that, don’t you?’

She looked at him keenly and gave one sharp nod. ‘I do.’