Had her kidnappers tied her up? Were they looking after her as the goose that was about to lay them a golden egg, or were they … abusing her? Perhaps they’d already got rid of her? Dark thoughts were knitting my insides together. I read the text message for the umpteenth time.

Plead guilty in court to the murder of Dan Jeavons.

None of the kidnappers’ demands had been met. In court yesterday, I had entered a plea of not guilty. Callie hadn’t recused herself as my lawyer, nor had she removed the super-injunction. In their text, they referred to themselves as ‘we’, so I had to work on the assumption that there was more than one.

Now I stood at my bedroom window in the dark. A black hole was opening in my gut and trying to suck me into it. I was officially, if covertly due to the press injunction my blackmailers clearly knew about, on trial for Dan’s murder. I confess, a large part of me had thought the case would be thrown out by Judge Okafor on the grounds of insufficient evidence – or because I am now PM – ha! No such luck. I was in the fight of my life. Not just for my political career, but my freedom. My Liberty. There was a very real chance that after this trial I’d never look up at the sky from outside prison walls again.

I’d pleaded not guilty, rationalizing that it was the best way to try and keep my daughter alive. If I immediately gave in to the kidnappers’ demands, what reason would they have to keep her in good health, knowing that if she was freed she could identify them? Pleading my innocence in court meant that her abductors had to keep her around to try to coerce me into doing what they wanted – at least that had been my frenetic thinking. I was doing this for my daughter. But was I really?

Liberty … If anything happened to her because of me …

I hated this. Patience was not one of my virtues.

Having refused to submit to the kidnappers’ demands, Callie and I now had to wait for them to make the next move. But I was no good at waiting for the ball to be batted back to me. It was time to set wheels in motion. As Dan used to say, ‘Some people have a plan A and possibly a plan B as backup. You, Tobey, use at least half the alphabet to work out your alternatives.’

I wasn’t about to apologize for that. There was nothing wrong in believing in the seven Ps – Prior Proper Preparation Prevents Piss-Poor Performance. That way Callie and I stood half a chance of making it through this and getting our loved ones back home safe and sound. And, once I had my daughter back, I intended to send a very clear message.