‘The Hairdresser, huh?’ Her voice shook. ‘I bet you would have preferred to be called something like the Hunter or the Ripper. Hairdresser sounds kind of… effete, don’t you think?’

‘You’re only making it harder on yourself,’ said Amber.

And then he was there standing astride her. From her perspective, sitting at his feet, he seemed huge, like a silent colossus, blocking out the light.

He looked down at her and adjusted his grip on the knife, placing his thumb on the back of the blade so he could apply more pressure when cutting.

Bailey’s heart pounded uncontrollably in her chest as she desperately sawed through the bonds.

Amber seated herself back on top of the dryer, swinging her feet in anticipation like an excited child.

‘This is a rare treat,’ she said. ‘Normally I don’t get to watch.’

Leonard bent down over Bailey’s seated form and grabbed a handful of her hair. He viciously yanked her head at an angle and began to wind her hair around his fist, tautening her scalp. She winced and gasped, feeling the roots popping out. He eyed her hairline in the detached manner of a surgeon gauging the best angle from which to make a cut.

She frantically sawed away, feeling just a final few strands remaining.

‘Stay still,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to ruin it.’

He bent down closer to her level. She felt his warm breath on her face.

He placed the cold steel edge of his knife horizontally across the top of her forehead. She felt him tense as he prepared to slice her scalp off.

The final few strands of mesh gave way. In that instant, she brought up her left hand and knocked his knife away from her forehead. With her right hand, in a single transverse swipe, she drew the origami tiger across the side of his neck. It left a thin red line in its wake.

Leonard jerked upright and reeled backwards in surprise.

Amber jumped off the washing machine, a puzzled frown on her face.

He put his hand up to the cut on his neck, then looked at his gloved fingers. He grunted dismissively.

The three of them all looked at the little origami tiger, which she was holding up in front of her. It looked pathetic, crumpled, mangled by her efforts to break free. It was barely recognisable as a piece of origami.

‘It’s a tiger,’ said Bailey. ‘And it bites.’

Leonard snorted in contempt and his face twisted into an angry sneer. He hefted his knife with relish. She’d pissed him off and he was angry now. He was going to finish what he hadn’t quite started, and he was going to make sure it hurt. Except he wouldn’t get the chance to…

Bailey tilted the origami tiger so that the razor blade was visible protruding from the crumpled paper.

And at that exact moment the thin red cut on the side of his neck suddenly opened up into a large gaping gash. A geyser of blood sprayed up the side of his face.