He began opening the kitchen doors, directing Emma to look in the dining room for a key. I ran upstairs, making my steps as light as possible and entered Mother’s bedroom, pausing outside the spare room, surprised to hear nothing. I wondered briefly what she was up to then refocused on the task at hand: finding a spare key.

I hunted high and low in both wardrobes – the normal one and the crazy, doll-filled one. Nothing. The bedside table drawer yielded nothing. I had a very quick glance under the bed and under her pillows, inside her pillowcases. Nothing.

Sighing heavily, I went back downstairs to find Patrick checking the back of the photograph of Mother and her grandfather. He shook his head when he saw me.

‘Looks like I’m going to have to get these boards off the windows. Do you know where she keeps her tools?’

‘Cupboard under the stairs, I think.’

He headed out of the room and Emma and I followed him. This was it. We were getting out of here. I began to relax. Patrick was an adult. He was going to help us escape. I smiled at Emma and gave her a hug.

‘Patrick’s going to help us get out now. We’re going home!’

She gave me a small smile and hugged me back. We watched as Patrick charged into the living room with a hammer in his hand.

‘Can I do anything to help?’ I said, pulling Emma into the room.

He shook his head. Sweat had beaded on his brow. His fingers were trembling and he looked pale.

‘Patrick, are you OK?’ I said.

‘Yep. Just hungry.’

Needing something to do, I dashed into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of ham out of the fridge. I left the kitchen and hurried back into the living room. Using the claws at the end of the hammer, Patrick had managed to prise out two nails. Emma sat on the floor cross-legged watching him, rocking back and forth, sucking her nightgown. I handed him the ham and he gobbled it down with unbelievable speed; I don’t think he even chewed it.

There were fifteen more nails to go. I tried to stand still but couldn’t. My legs wanted to move. I went to stand behind Emma and stroked her hair in an effort to soothe her.

‘Everything’s going to be OK, Emma,’ I said. ‘You’ll be able to see your mummy very soon.’

As I said this, excitement stirred in my chest. I was going home. I was going to get away from here. Get to see the outside.

‘Patrick, are there wolves in the outside?’

To my relief, he gave me a shocked look and said, ‘Wolves haven’t roamed England for centuries. No need to fret about that.’

I blew out the breath I’d been holding. ‘That’s good to know.’

Patrick prised out another nail.