Karl: "Since it is nearly Halloween I decided to have a guest interview with someone who knows all about horror: Chris Turner."
Chris sits there in a polo-neck shirt and jeans, a picture of subdued menace as he scowls: "No, my name's Chris Jones."
Karl: "But I thought-"
Leaning forward and staring me in the eye. "Jones."
Karl: "Sorry. Chris Jones."
Karl: "You survived a visit to Ynys Diawl, off the coast of Anglesey in Wales. Storms, missing people, madness ... that must have been pretty horrifying."
Chris: "I've had worse."
Karl: "Didn't people try to kill and torture you?"
Shrug. "Like I said, I've had worse."
Karl: "How did you feel about me turning the events of your visit into a survival horror novel?"
Chris: "I'm still waiting for the money you promised."
Karl: "So am I ... I thought I'd sell more copies of Turner."
Chris: "Best get out in the streets and tout it from street corners then. You owe me."
Karl: "Yes, yes. I'll pay, I promise. But back to the contents of the book."
Chris: "Aye, that's alright. Brought it all back, which isn't always good, but the detail, mostly, yeah, you got that. Of course, things were worse in real life. You didn't include the bit with the hermit. Or the flogging post. Or the drill. But I guess people can be squeamish. Maybe save that for the sequel. You are doing one, right?"
Karl: "One day. It will be called Returner."
Chris: "Ha ha, nice one. Be good to finish my story. Let people know the real me." He leans over and fusses the huge Labrador he has brought with him. It is very well behaved when not licking its private bits. He calls it Spotty, even though it is totally black. "I look rough but I'm a kitten, really."
Karl: "Some of the reviewers of Turner disagreed. There were complaints about swearing. In fact, one of them called you a 'potty mouth'."
Angry. "If someone attacked you with a chainsaw and you're a hair's breadth from being shredded, you'd swear too! Bloody hell!" Then he leans back and sighs. "I'll swear when things go bad, yeah. But I save the creative swearing for extreme situations. Like to annoy someone, or confuse them."
Karl: "To turn the situation round, like you did with the Bwystfil?"
Chris: "The freaky red-hooded killer? Yeah, that's it. Turn things. Overbalance things. Switch sides, get another angle. That's what I do. I might look rough but I survived this long by paying attention to what pushes someone's buttons, rather than just using muscle. It's brains, not brawn, that turns things my way."
Karl: "Thanks for clarifying that, Chris."
Chris: "Look, Spotty needs a dump, so I need to be off soon."
Karl: "Yes, I do appreciate your time. I had hoped to ask you about your sister -"
Thick-browed scowl, a tightening of the jaw, it was the wrong thing to say.
Karl: "- then changed my mind and wondered if you still like swimming."
Chris: "Not in the sea, that's for sure."
Karl: "Future plans?"
Chris: "Stay off the radar. Be happy. Do good. Protect those I love."
Karl: "Any unfinished business on the island? Plans to go back?"
Chris: "That would be telling."
He stands and shakes my hand. Almost crushes it. Walks off, Spotty following eagerly and wagging his tail. Then Chris turns at the door.
Chris: "Oh yeah, and don't forget the money."
You can buy copies of Turner in many places.