The street lights flashed on, as Sarah Jane's car continued along the road. She could feel her eyes closing. Don't fall asleep, don't fall asleep, she thought. The traffic grew lighter, along with any pedestrians or passerby's on the path. God, how long had she been driving for? She glanced at her phone. Neither Luke or Rani had called yet. Were they all right? Oh God, perhaps they were in danger. She looked at the man. His head lolled to the side with no whimpering, and his hands were still. That unpleasant stink still hung in the air. She could find him some new clothes. Some clean clothes.

Oh.

She hadn't eaten all day. There must have been a shop nearby. Maybe the man would like some food too. Maybe he wanted to harm her. That's probably what Harrison wanted. Perhaps not. He did seem genuine.

Another set of lights were approaching. The last, for this journey, it seemed. And the last of the petrol in her tank. It couldn't have been-

Oh, good.

At the next left, she turned into the nearest petrol station. An eerie silence yawned, as Sarah Jane began to fill her tank. She couldn't remember the last time she'd ventured at such odd hours.

As she opened her door to retrieve her purse, she moved quietly as a mouse, so as not to wake the man - if he was sleeping. Perhaps he was just resting his eyes, just testing her.

Hopefully the man liked egg and onion, Sarah Jane thought, returning with two packs of sandwiches and bottles of water.

She lifted her phone and dialled.

'The person you are-'

Oh God.

Where were they? They were in danger, they had to be.

She had to go back to the house. She had - no. Help this man first, or find out his intention, at least.

Oh, this was going to be a long night, indeed.

Damn. She'd conked out. Sarah Jane checked her watch. 6.30am.

She looked around at the vacant car park. The sea rippled, and the birds sang. She looked at the man. He must've been asleep all of that time, for his head was still lolled to the side. The sandwiches sat unopened.

Ring, ring.

Sarah Jane looked at the phone screen. Perhaps it was Luke - or Rani - calling from an unknown number. Calling to say they were safe.

'Luke? Rani? Are you all right?'

'That depends,' a voice said. 'Fond of egg and onion, then, Miss Smith?'

Sarah Jane paused.

'Who is this?'

'Wilfred Parkinson. You won't have heard of me, but you're going to.'

Sarah Jane sat up.

'Christ, how did you get this number?'

'Your son gave it to me. And Rani's.'

'Are they all right?'

Silence.

'Like I said, Miss Smith,' Parkinson responded. 'It depends.'

'On?'

'Is there a man next to you?'

Great. Someone was watching her.

'Yes.'

Parkinson coughed.

'And he's your main priority?'

Long pause.

'At the moment...yes.'

Parkinson chuckled.

'Ah, okay. Nothing to worry about, then. Sorry to trouble you, Miss Smith.'

'Wait, Parkinson,' Sarah Jane bounced back. 'Where are they?'

'Safe.'

'Park-'

Beep, beep, beep.

Sarah Jane lowered her phone.

Oh, no.

She knew it - she knew it.

Did Parkinson also know the man? Know his name, and his intentions?

She looked at the man, still sleeping.

Back to Bannerman Road, or...?

Being watched, that's just what she needed.

Oh, please, Luke - Rani, call back, Sarah Jane thought.

She-

'MARION!'

Sarah Jane jumped, as the man jolted awake, screaming.

She turned to him, holding him.

'It's all right, it's all right,' she said, in her best effort to reassure him.

The man's hands trembled, his eyes darting.

'It's okay, it's okay.'

He looked at her, shaking.

Sarah Jane released him, taking a few breaths herself.

'Is she here?'

She looked at him.

'I don't think so,' she said. 'I'm sorry, I know this'll be difficult for you, but would you be able to tell me who Marion is?'

His eyes darted.

'Is she here?'

Sarah Jane looked ahead.

Just who was Marion?

Granville studied the human customers around him. Eating their steak. Their pasta. Their cheesecake. He rubbed his gloved hands. His own pie wasn't bad at all - so much, that he could've requested seconds. The Bane would have, no doubt. He thought it may have been busier at this hour. The more to...be involved in his plan, the better. Just a matter of time, now. This plan was just the starter. The one for Harrison being the main course.

The blue decor with the yellow stripes was rather nice.

Perhaps Cromley was here. In the kitchen? In the toilet? Sitting opposite him. Blood (tomato sauce to other customers) streamed from Cromley's mouth, and his eyes were wide.

Granville rose, snatched Cromley's arm, and headed for the toilet.

He forced Cromley into the cubicle, lodging the man into the toilet. Granville aimed a minute pistol.

'This,' he smiled, approaching the man. 'is for Wormwood.'

Cromley jarred, with a hole in his throat.

Granville placed the pistol beside the toilet, and left.

One down.

He approached a server.

'Excuse me, someone's had a bit of an accident in the men's.'

The server hurried off. A scream rang out. Granville smirked.