There was a sudden flick-flick of strip lights from inside the workshop and brightness flooded in under the tank-room door. Footsteps crossed the workshop and stopped. I stayed still. If I moved, the rattling chains would give me away. I held my breath.

Vlad was searching around, stopping now and then. I heard him walk around the saw-bench, stop, circle a stack of furniture. He moved to the foot of the ladder that led to the hayloft. ‘Are you up here, girlfriend?’ he laughed, his voice mocking, and began to climb.

Now was my chance. Gritting my teeth, I locked my fingers around the bars and jumped up, pulling with both arms, straining to heave my body on to the flat surface of the swaying grid. It was like trying to climb on to a floating raft. Not easy.

The grid swung backwards with me clinging to it and for a dreadful moment I lost my grip. I cried out before I could stop myself, scrabbling at the bars with my fingers and clung on, hanging by my arms as it swung back and came to rest once more above the lid of the tank. Footsteps pounded down the ladder and a few moments later the light in the tank room flicked on.

Vlad stood in the doorway. His eye was horrible, bulging, a blood-red golf ball, the bruised lid barely able to close over it. But it was the other eye, the ice-blue, cold stare glittering with hate, that was more frightening to look at. He surveyed me, hanging by my arms, toes barely touching the lid of the tank, and he laughed.

‘You know what is in tank, girlfriend?’ he asked casually.

I didn’t answer. The bars of the grid were digging into my palms and my arms were starting to tremble. I could feel sweat running through my hair.

‘So, where is it?’ he asked, advancing towards me. ‘You get it from the old man, eh? You get him to leave you everything. Clever girl!’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I told him. ‘What is it you want?’

He picked up a long piece of wood from a pile of odd timbers resting against the wall and banged the side of the tank with it. The metal clanged and the liquid sloshed inside. ‘Pretty full in there.’ He inspected the controls of the machinery and grabbed a lever. ‘What does this do?’ He pulled it towards him and I felt the grid move. I let out a scream. Suddenly my feet left the lid, and I was dangling helplessly, the grid biting into my fingers.

‘Ah!’ he nodded. ‘This one makes you go up and down.’ He let go of the lever, leaving me dangling. The muscles in my arms were tearing, screaming for relief.