Turning on the tap and gulping down water, he catches his breath in the midnight gloom.

A wave of dizziness hits, and Danny's hands curl around the edges of the counter like a drowned man's on a rock. Gulping in breaths, he looks balefully up at the mirror, hollow-eyed and hollow-hearted.

One hand scrabbles for the edge. He swings the door open, fingers leaping spiderlike and pulling out a small white bottle. The lid pops off with a moment's effort and he shakes out one, two.

Three pills.

They fall down his throat like pebbles into water, and he chokes.