I awake to the rumbling of a large vehicle pulling up outside my front drive. My bedside alarm says 5.30am.
Had my cover been blown?
I had been expecting something every day for months since my messages to one address remain unanswered.
My pretence of ignoring visible security measures in a neighbourhood of otherwise securely-barricaded houses had always been no more than a hopeful option.
I retreat into the bathroom and out of my bed clothes. I dress in the sports kit I had set out for my morning tennis match and pocket the emergency pack of medication, and phone...
