I would have walked for longer, head spinning, but my phone rang. It was a rarity because I gave few the number. Kat was one of them. I debated whether to reject the call. Enough really was enough tonight, and I didn’t even know what ‘enough’ was any more after the conversation with Binnie, but duty won over. I answered her cautiously. ‘Where are you?’ ‘Does it matter?’ ‘Yes. How close to Great Ormond Street are you?’ ‘Why?’ ‘Danny’s there. I thought you should know.’ It sounded a reluctant thought, but at least she was talking to me sufficiently to have passed it on. ‘Why?’ ‘He had a fit and they took him there. Maybe an epileptic fit, they say.’ ‘Christ. How is he now?’ ‘Well the fit seems to have resolved although they say they will need to run some tests on him. It’s what else they’ve found as a result of it that’s puzzling them.’ ‘What?’ ‘The bruises.’ ‘Bruises? An attack?’ ‘No, it doesn’t look like that, but there’s not really any other explanation at the moment.
