Tommy sits on the rooftop chewing away at his finger nails and wondering if swallowing the pieces could be considered as food. The night is cold and the wind is growing strong enough make the trees lean slightly. He knows this means something for a sniper but he’s a little off on the full meaning. In Call of Duty there was only so much included in the detail of the game.

He’s thinking about Sarah, his friends Phil and Julie. About his family. Then he looks across at Pauline and Brian and thinks about his old grandma who just died last month.

Tommy: She’d smoke like a chimney and sit there with her cups of tea and newspaper for most of the day. Looks like she escaped this madness by a whisker.