The settee

‘Irene?’ he said incredulously. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Can’t breathe,’ she panted. ‘Can’t—a paper—need a paper bag,’ she gasped. ‘Asthma?’ he queried as he strode forward.

‘No. P-panic.’

‘A panic attack? What—? Never mind.’ He gathered her into his arms. ‘Shush—no one is going to hurt you, I promise. Calm down—no—’ he resisted as she fought to free herself ‘—do as I say, Irene. Relax. You can do it.’

‘A b-bag,’ she stammered.

‘I have no idea where they are, if there are any.’

Her chest rose and fell erratically as she tried to fill her lungs with air, but he started to massage her back and, gradually, her breathing steadied as she felt the warmth and the safe haven of his arms, and after some minutes it slowed to normal.

She closed her eyes in sheer relief, and when she opened them it was to see Murad Fullbuster watching her with a mixture of relief himself, and amazement.

‘All right?’

She nodded but sagged a little against him. ‘Thanks,’ she whispered.

He picked her up. ‘I think we both ne