Once again, I . . .
Once again, I am lying in the dark, after an extraordinary journey.
But I’m not alone. I reach out a hand and find Bunny’s, lacing my old fingers in with his.
“I’ve always wanted to go for a drive in one of those huge lorries,” he says.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I’m awake again. Keep talking,”
“I knew I was in Kincardine, at the . . . nursing home, Lindsay said it was . . . because I felt us going over the bridge. And I knew where I was when they had me in the maid’s room next door. But the other place? I had no idea. It was terrifying. It was like a nightmare.”
Bunny squeezes my hand.
“Of course, it was supposed to terrify me. That was the point. It was supposed to cow me and break me. Make me biddable.”
“You?” says Bunny. “Never!”
He is trying to be kind but the truth is not so rousing. “Almost,” I tell him. “If Lindsay hadn’t come when she did.”
“Splendid girl,” Bunny says. “I hope—”
Now it’s my turn to squeeze his hand. I hope too. I can’t imagine where Lindsay is or what she’s doing but I hope too.