She mustn’t shout because it’s way worse when she shouts, but then she does. She starts shouting and her head is full of noise so that she can’t tell whether the noise is inside or outside because the air is screaming and her throat is screaming and the blackness has got inside her head. She’s hitting at the roof. A blade of light like a knife cuts into the darkness, it hurts her eyes. The animal inside her chest is banging so hard it’s going to come out through her skin and something heavy is pressing down at the same time so she can’t shout any more or whisper or breathe properly and then she knows that the monster is in here with her. It’s sitting on top of her and stopping her breathing and very soon she’s going to die.

11. November

Melissa

Melissa has no option but to take Paul’s car; her own is too badly damaged.

Borrowed car for school run, she writes on a Post-it note. Then shopping. Suggest you take a taxi to work.

She leaves the note stuck to the kettle. He’ll be angry when he wakes, furious, but it doesn’t matter, she won’t be here to suffer that. She slides slowly and awkwardly into the front seat; at least she can move her arm well enough to drive the car. Lina has a head start of about twenty minutes. She could be anywhere by now. How stupid to imagine that Lina trusted her. Why would she? She’d trusted Paul once, she’d hardly trust his wife who had never lifted a finger to help her, who had seemingly turned the other way. She should never have mentioned the police; Lina might think she is in even greater danger now.

The Mercedes glides quietly through the gates, then Melissa drives slowly through the empty roads searching the pavements and doorways. Eight a.m. The streets are becoming busy, children walking to school, people hurrying to North Dulwich station. Lina might already be on a train, disappearing into the city, leaving no trace. Melissa decides to circle round the streets twice then come back. She can sit in the car opposite the station entrance, watching in case Lina comes. This could be all be a waste of time; Lina could just as easily be making her way to Herne Hill station or Brixton underground. She could be waiting for a bus or simply walking into London. She’ll be unsafe. When Paul realizes she’s missing he might make a call; the men who brought her here could track her down. There must be dark networks to catch girls like Lina, and then, a plunging thought, girls like Sorrel too. She grips the wheel tightly. She may tell the police after all, because of girls like Sorrel.