Johann pushed forward through the drift in the direction of the marooned Toyota. In the few metres he had progressed, the snow had burned his cheeks and silted against the front of his blue nylon windcheater. His actions became automatic, the raising and lowering of each leg in turn, pushing against an icy force field of wind, his sense of survival bypassing reason.

He could no longer recall his purpose in confronting Madeline. The part of him that wanted to reassure her of his devotion was fast giving way to something more primal. Although he longed to believe that she would understand what he had been through-what he was still going through-and would somehow forgive him, he suspected she was going to react as women always reacted, by shutting him out and regarding him with fear and hatred. He knew, at that point, he would have to surrender her. It seemed his life was destined to be nothing more than a series of dashed hopes and false starts.

He looked behind him, and saw that his footprint trail had already been obliterated. The sight was a confirmation of his invisibility. He longed to be seen by those who sat in judgement of him. Madeline had trusted him because he encouraged her to do so, but sooner or later everyone was faced with a test, when meaning well was no longer enough, and now it was his time to be tried again. He wanted the corridor to open to the sky once more, but the snow-laden clouds blocked the stars from sight.

At first when he knocked on the snow-crusted window, there was no response. Then a gloved mitten wiped an arc through the ice ferns, and he saw her frightened face. She started and immediately grappled with the door lock, but he was too fast for her, wrenching open the rear door. Sliding himself in beside the dozing boy in the red blanket.

T just want to talk,“ he said quickly. ”I need to tell you about myself, about how I survive.“ He put his arm around the boy, knowing that she would not dare to leave without him. It was cruel, but the only way to make her pay attention.

“I know what you are,” she replied, turning to move his hand from Ryan. “Get away from my son. What are you doing here?”

“You don’t understand, Madeline, I meant everything I said. There are things-‘

“Why are you doing this to us?” She tried to stare him down through the car’s aquarium light, shaming him. “Everything you told me was a lie; you’re not who you said; you wanted me to trust you and I did. I don’t know what you are, you’re worse than all the others because you’re-‘ She stopped short, knowing that Ryan lay between them. The car’s interior was icy; the engine had died. She could see her son’s breath, and the sight made her fear for him. ”I want you to get out and leave us alone. I won’t go to the police, I won’t say anything, but you can’t be near my son.“

“I had to follow you, but I am not crazy, Madeline, I just need this one chance to put things right, I need you to believe in me.” His breath came with difficulty; since childhood he had been prone to fits of panic. He fought to keep his emotions under control. “Please, Madeline, we’re stuck here, there’s nowhere else to go. You’re the only one who can help.”

“What do you expect from me, Johann-I don’t even know what to call you, because that’s not your real name. You think we’re going to be together after what I know about you? You think I can save you from yourself?”

“Yes,” he said, softly and sincerely. “I do believe that. We both live beneath God’s watchful eyes but you are as alone as me. We can help each other.”

During the conversation she slowly reached across the seat, closing her hand over the envelope that contained the proof of his guilt. So long as she had this weapon against him, she could feel safe. “Ryan, it’s okay, honey, just come over into the front,” she instructed.

The waking boy looked at her in confusion. Johann remained motionless, but finally moved away as Ryan scrambled over into the passenger seat. “You have to get out now,” she told Johann.

“Mum. You’re frightening me,” said Ryan. “Stop it.”

“You ran from me in France, Madeline, but I needed to talk.”

“I ran from you because you’d broken into that house in the hills, just like you’d stolen the car. Nothing you told me was the truth, Johann. I left an old man dying on the floor above, I don’t know what you did to him, but I-‘

“I didn’t do anything, Madeline. God took him away, so I could use the house.”

“Just like all the other people in the passports you’ve stolen?” she asked, knowing the answer. T saw all the photographs you kept, the women’s bodies, their battered faces.“

He seemed dumbfounded by this, and she knew at last that he had run out of lies. Ryan was drawing closer, almost by her side. She kept her eyes on Johann’s face, sure that if she glanced away now he would guess her intentions. She had learned how to deceive violent men in the course of her marriage. So many conversations with her husband and his brother had turned into cat-and-mouse games of guilt and fabrication.

It was growing dark inside the car as the night and the blizzard cocooned it. She tried to recall which way the door lock opened. “What do you want with me, Johann?” she asked. “When do you reach the point where your love for me switches over to hatred, and all you want to do is smash my head in?”

“Mum, no, please-‘

For a moment the snow clouds scudded apart, creating a pale pathway to the fading light. The interior of the car grew brighter.

Turning to the window, Johann flinched from the jaundicing snowscape. It was a moment that could not come again; she threw her weight against the driver’s door as she unlocked it, hauling Ryan out with her. Madeline was on her feet and braced before he had managed to open the rear door. When he did so, ducking his head to come out, she slammed it back against his skull, catching him hard and crushing his unlowered right leg.

With Ryan pressed against her jacket she turned to run, but her trainers refused to grip against the powdery drifts. She found herself floundering and sliding, her progress confounded by an elemental force that seemed intent on pushing them back. Ahead, the blanched channel of the road appeared and vanished. The tracks between the stalled vehicles had been obliterated. No-one was out on the road. Passengers and drivers alike were heeding the police broadcasts to remain inside their cars. Once more, she could expect no help.

She tried to see in through the car windows. There was no time to stop and check each interior. She heard only the bluster of the gale and the thrum of engines.

“This one,” said Ryan suddenly, dragging her over to the passenger door of an abandoned white Vauxhall van, buried in the shadowed drift of a large Spar truck. He tried to turn the handle, but it was either locked or frozen solid. Pulling his mother back to the rear door, he tried again, but this time she helped him and it twisted open. Madeline climbed inside the icy dark vehicle and fell back while he attempted to close the door without dislodging its crust of snow. The door could not be locked, so she made him hold it shut between them, their breath blurring together in grey clouds as they gripped the handle. There was no rear window, and no way of knowing whether he would pass them by.

All they could do now was hang on to the freezing metal and wait.