Franny spun around again, taking short, shallow breaths as she gasped for air. ‘Bree?’

She grabbed for the wall, moving along, terrified as her eyes darted about and pricked with tears. The next moment she started to run; down the corridor and through a large door before racing around the corner, skidding and sliding on the wet concrete but as she got into the next room, Franny suddenly realised she’d gone the wrong way.

Panicking, she looked for another way out and at the end of the room she saw a small metal door, which she headed for, running through it as she tried to stop herself from screaming.

As she stumbled into the room, which was brighter and easier to see in than the other one due to the long wide windows void of panes of glass, she stopped and stared. There was something over in the far corner.

She cautiously walked towards it, her heart thumping as she felt her feet brush through the wet leaves that had been blown inside. With eyes having adjusted to the dark, Franny could see clearly … There was a small, purpose-built platform and on it were toys, children’s toys. A ball. A train. A small fire engine and a couple of pieces of Lego. She glanced down at the floor and saw a discarded pair of children’s trousers. Seeing something else, looking like a dark stain, she bent down and touched it gently. It was blood. Spots of blood. ‘Jesus.’

‘Fran! You okay?’

Franny jumped, screaming and falling forward in fright. A rush of terror swept over her. Breathlessly, she rubbed her chest, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Jesus, Alf, do you have to sneak up on me like that? Christ almighty. I thought you were …’

Alfie touched his head, which was still sore but at least the bleeding had stopped. ‘You thought I was, who?’

Fractious, Franny shrugged. ‘No one. You just gave me a fright, that’s all.’

‘Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just that you’ve been ages and I was getting worried … What’s that?’

Franny stood up, a look of concern over her face. ‘I found them. They’re kids’ toys, and …’ She stopped, clearly unable to form the words to describe the little boy’s trousers out loud.

Alfie’s face paled as he looked down at the trousers. He felt shocked and he was forced to try to steady himself against the wall, his words difficult to find. ‘You think they belonged to the kid? You think …’ He stopped, unable to say what he was thinking.

Glancing around, Franny answered gently, ‘Usually I’d say we were jumping to conclusions, but look at that …’

‘What is it?’

Franny walked towards the end of the room and shivered. ‘It looks like some camera equipment, a tripod.’

‘You think …’ Again, Alfie couldn’t find the words.