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At a quarter to five the sky to the east was turning a transitional blue. It brought relief: Night was coming to an end and my fear could stand-down. Nutters don’t come out in daylight. And, if they do, they hang around in the Co-Op or ride on busses. They don’t visit other people’s gardens. With this comforting thought, I shut my eyes and submitted to the power of post-adrenalin exhaustion.

I woke with a violent, defibrillator of a  start. Somebody was trying to kick down my front door. I went to the top of the stairs to hear another hinge-rattling thud. I squatted down. A figure dressed in a bright orange top was visible through the frosted-glass panel. He was pushing against the door and forcing something through the letterbox. Then a polythene-clad catalogue fell on to the mat. The fluorescent figure moved away and my friendly postman moved-on.

Nausea swirled in my stomach. I puffed-out my cheeks and reached upwards to steady myself on the banister. Pinheads of sweat appeared on my forehead and I began to see colours - greens and purples - like the ones that I’d seen last night. I put my head forward and stared down at the top stair. This would not be a good place to pass out.  I fell on to my bottom and lay back. Minutes passed - minutes of nothingness. I became cold, clammy and revolting. Mr Brave was now pathetic - pale and in need of a puke.

I stared down in to the toilet water. My reflection made me wretch. A small amount of sick dribbled from my bottom lip. I couldn’t even vomit properly. Yes, “pathetic” was the word, and it was all my own fault.

Boredom had got me in to trouble in the past. Like the time I’d cut down a silver birch in my Grandfather’s garden. He wasn’t pleased but my life was never in danger. Now, I’d discovered a new dimension. Whereas my grandfather had made me help him saw the tree in to pieces, the man in black was planning to cut me up…...probably. So, was it just normal boredom that had got me here?

No, it wasn’t. And, it wasn’t just the slow start to my holiday. It was the weeks and months that had preceded it. I’d done nothing of any interest or consequence since Danielle’s departure.