Lynch has already boarded the train before I can react, and I don't want to give us away by causing a massive fuss. I follow her on board, get her attention and then nod towards the end of the platform and pull a face.
"What?" she whispers. "Police?"
I nod. Lynch goes pale. "Well," she says, "Too late now. If we go dashing off it'll only attract attention." And she heads into the carriage and slumps down into an empty seat, pulling her woolly hat lower on her head as she does so.
For a few minutes the train sits waiting in the station. Nobody else boards our carriage. At last the whistle sounds and the doors hiss shut. Beyond the windows, the platform starts to move. We're on our way, though by no means safe just yet.
"No turning back now," says Lynch grimly. I watch out of the window as we pull away from the station, through a tunnel, through the city and out into the countryside. Soon enough we're churning our way through fields and rolling hills. That's when it hits me; I've left home. I'm running away with a girl I met on the streets just a few days ago. It's all real, and it's all happening. Happening to me, no less. A shiver runs through me, and I feel a powerful pang of sadness as I wonder how long it will be before Mum or Dad notice that I'm gone.
"Listen," says Lynch, "I'm going to try and get some sleep." I nod in agreement, and we move to opposite seats so we can stretch out a bit. Lynch is dozing within minutes, clearly exhausted, but even though I'm more tired than I have been in months sleep won't come for me. I sit there, watching Lynch sleeping and letting my thoughts run through my head: in a little while Mari will come into work and discover our parcel. I can imagine her sitting down to read it, paging through the photographs and maps and statements. I picture her face creasing in a frown, her hand reaching out to pick up the phone.
Then I'm thinking of Darren. I see him lying in a bleak metal cell, sleeping fitfully, not knowing that his sister and the girl he helped escape are sitting together in a train carriage, thinking of him. Not knowing that there are people out there who know the truth, who are looking for him, who are trying to do something to help.
Rocked by the gentle motion of the train, I gradually fall asleep. I don't dream at all as the train speeds us northwards.
I'm not sure how long I'm out before it happens. All I know is there's sudden brightness and shouting and rough hands snatch me out of my seat, and I catch a glimpse of men in grey uniforms for only a second before a hood is wrenched roughly over my head.
