‘So, it’s easy. Open the door and throw me out.’
He pulled up his blanket and closed his eyes.
‘I don’t deserve any of this.’
‘Well, I put it that way for dramatic effect, but what I mean is, you drop me off … somewhere –’ I needed to gloss over this bit, ‘– and then you use the opportunity to nip off to St Mary’s. You can find out what’s going on, stock up on food and drink, empty the loo, recharge the cells, whatever, all of which you can do because they won’t know where you are. Because I’ll be elsewhere, distracting them. Then you come and collect me again and off we go. We’ll have a nice clean pod with lots to eat. We’ll even be able to use the bog without getting cholera. Where’s the downside?’
‘And what are you doing in the meantime?’
‘Nothing. That’s the beauty of my brilliant idea. You can take as long as you like, replenish supplies, have a beer, have a good gossip with everyone … You can take days and still come back and pick me up less than thirty minutes after you left. It’s not brilliant – it’s genius.’
‘Thirty minutes may be long enough for them to find you – alone, defenceless, and in your pyjamas. Forget it.’
‘No. Listen, will you? You have to drop me somewhere they can’t reach me. Some place where it’s too dangerous for them to pursue me.’
‘Such as?’
I took a deep breath.
‘Pompeii.’
‘Are you out of your mind?’
‘OK. I can be reasonable. I’m not specifically wedded to Pompeii. Krakatoa will do.’
‘Can I refer you to my previous response?’
‘Look,’ I said. ‘You’re obviously tired and emotional. I’m going to sit over there for fifteen minutes. You think about things. Work your way through all the “Oh my God, you’re not doing that” nonsense – sweet, but not very helpful – and then consider, calmly, the strengths of my brilliant idea.’
‘But …’
‘Not listening. Fifteen minutes.’
‘Will you …?’
‘Still not listening.’
‘Max …’
‘Don’t make me start la-la-la-ing.’
‘I’m going to smack your silly head in a minute.’
‘Yes, typical techie solution. If in doubt – give it a clout. You think. I’m going over there to wait for your enlightenment.’
His enlightenment took about thirty seconds. Just the time it took him to struggle out of his blankets and sit up.
‘What aren’t you telling me?’
When you have a difficult thing to say, the secret is to hit it headlong and give it a good kicking.
‘The bit you won’t like.’
‘Yes, I thought there would be a bit I wouldn’t like. Am I right in saying this relates to the tag?’
He wasn’t stupid.
‘Yes.’
‘I think you need to tell me the whole thing.’
‘All right. But don’t start shouting until I finish. Promise.’
‘I don’t shout.’
‘Well, don’t start now. Here goes.’
I drew a deep breath and choosing my words carefully, gave him the whole thing.
‘We split up. You drop me off in Pompeii. Or Krakatoa. Or Santorini – although we don’t have a specific date for Santorini and so –’
‘Just get on with it.’
‘You jump back to St Mary’s, load up the pod with supplies, and jump straight back to Pompeii, with luck, only about thirty minutes after you left. I know it’s a narrow margin, but I’m sure someone as clever as you can manage that.’
This blatant flattery left him unmoved.
‘I know you don’t like it, but it’s got to be somewhere dangerous. Somewhere they would have the same problems moving around as me. It cancels out their advantages. I thought I’d hole up in an abandoned house or shop and just keep my head down until you can pick me up. There will be ash and pumice and God knows what dropping from the sky. They’ll have to take cover just like everyone else. Once I’ve established my presence, you nip in and pick me up. Yes, they’ll lose my signal then, but we’ll be in the middle of a volcanic eruption, for crying out loud. They won’t be surprised.’
He said nothing, so I carried on. ‘We go somewhere quiet – anywhere will do so long as we don’t open the door – and you remove the tag. I’m sure that won’t be difficult. It’s only just under the skin.’
‘I’d feel happier if Helen did it at St Mary’s.’
‘We can’t go there. As soon as you open the door, they’ll know I’m not in Pompeii any longer. And they find us so quickly, Leon. Every time we open the door.’
He shook his head, but I was right.
‘We then jump back to Pompeii and chuck the tag into a heap of molten lava or whatever. As far as they’re concerned, I never left and I died there under the ash, or fried in a pyroclastic flow, and then we’re both free because there’s no reason for them to chase you. And they won’t be able to find you, anyway. We can probably go back to Rushford after a few months.’