"Yes, of course you are. Of course it is. Your Quattro," she singsongs, resting her head on the door frame for a moment to catch her balance when he lets her go.

"There. Have a smoke. We'll be home in a jiff."

She closes the door behind him, bumps it shut with her hip, and moves round to the driver side, fingertips resting on the bonnet of the car as she goes. (This a full sensory hallucination.) The crisp night air fogs her breath, and she takes a puff from an imaginary cigarette. The deep breath clears her head somewhat. She climbs into the driver's seat and puts the key in. Lucky for him, she doesn't even have to adjust the seat.

"Think, Alex. Which way did we come."

She starts the engine and can't remember.

"Gene. If we wanted to get to your mum's house from here, which way would we go?"