Abruptly annoyed with herself, Fiona flicked the light switch, watching with no small relief as the big ramshackle room was revealed: cupboard doors half hidden under hanging clothes, the huge bed that was far too big for her, covered in cushions; the nightstand with its pile of dog-eared romance novels. She crossed to the bed and sat down, yanking at the laces on her trainers.

‘You’ve found a mouse, I expect,’ she said aloud to the room. ‘You killed it and made a mess, and now you’re too guilty to face me. That would explain the stink.’

Free of her trainers, she leaned down to pick them up – just in time to see a hand sneak out from under the bed and curl around her ankle.

The fright and the shock were like a hammer blow to her entire body. Fiona made an odd, whuffing sound – terror seemed to snap her lungs closed in an instant – and she tried to jump clear, but the hand around her ankle had a strong grip, and it yanked back viciously, causing her to lose her balance and crash to the floor. She hit the floor chin first, padded only slightly by the thick carpet, and as she opened her mouth to scream, she was aware of a great weight on the back of her legs. Whoever it was who had been hiding under the bed was climbing out, crawling up her rapidly. Fiona bucked wildly, attempting to throw them off, but they were bigger than her, stronger. She turned, catching a glimpse of a face hidden in a black woollen mask, and then there was another blow to her head, turning the edges of her vision dark and uncertain.

‘No, no, no …’

She brought her arms up and struck him again and again, horrified by the strange weakness in her shoulders. Fright had sucked all the strength from her, and he pushed her back onto the carpet, using his weight to pin her there. For an odd, elastic moment, Fiona remembered putting the benches away with her year sevens: they did it in teams of three, but Fiona could lift one herself, because she was strong, so strong despite her height, everyone said so, everyone said … With another clench of horror and shame, she realized she’d wet herself.

‘Get OFF of me!’

She landed a blow finally, pushing the man’s face back and away from her, but he lunged back and bit her, sinking his teeth into the flesh of her hand just as though he was a rabid dog. The stink, which had never really gone away, increased to the point that it seemed to stop her breath in her throat.

‘Get off, help, help …’