I licked my lips nervously. Emma wasn’t there but Mother didn’t know that. Somehow, if I could work it, maybe I could get away when she went into the man’s house to look for Emma. Maybe I could get away, find Emma on my own and get to the police before Patrick died. Maybe not all hope was lost.

Swallowing thickly, I tried to work out what to do, discarding idea after idea. The main problem was the gun. I didn’t think she’d shoot me, but she was crazy and angry. What if, in a fit of rage, she pointed the gun at me and pulled the trigger before she could stop herself?

Mother turned off the main road onto a bumpy side road. Not far away, the light from the strange man’s house glowed like the entrance to Hell.

Chapter 35

I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

I couldn’t stop the four-word sentence rotating around my brain. It was because I had decided what to do when we reached the farm. I had made my decision.

Mother slowed the car down, jiggled a stick in the middle of the car directly between us and yanked up another, straighter stick. The car jerked to a stop. The engine cut out. For a moment, we sat in the dark pool of the car, staring out at the light coming from the small house. The dogs in the cage had not barked. Neither had the dog chained to the building. Either they were asleep or they were not bothered by the car’s arrival. I could hear her breathing. She sounded wheezy, out of breath, despite the fact that we had been sat down for a while now.

‘She’s in there?’

Her question sent a shiver down my spine. Her voice was so cold and calculating. She had lost something and she wanted it back.

She called us dolls. I had never thought how strange that was until recently, but a real mother with real love would never call her child a doll. A doll was dead. I was alive. Emma was alive. We could hurt. We could bleed.

I will bleed.

Mother slapped me around the face. ‘Answer me!’

I stared at her through the gloom, glad that the darkness hid the tears in my eyes. ‘Yes. I left her here.’

I held my breath, certain she would hear my lie. She reached out and I flinched away, thinking she was going to strike me again, but she stroked my hair back from my forehead, her touch gentle.

‘You’re a good doll. I’m sorry I hit you. I’m just anxious about Clarabelle, that’s all.’