She could tell that he was foxed by her silence, her refusal to plead any more. He’s going to keep this up all night, she thought, picturing him sitting, waiting and brooding, the other side of the wall while his grandmother lay in her makeshift bed. The fact that he was not immediately trying to force his way in was no reassurance. That was what he was like, she realized. He would wait, biding his time.

At last he retreated again. Soon, she heard the clock striking three.

Her senses woke her. He was coming back. She leapt up to kneel on the chair. The shock and the sudden drumming of her heart made her feel sick.

She could hear movement somewhere outside. Straining her ears, she sat absolutely still, unsure whether she could hear anything or not. There was something: a shuffling noise. With no warning, the key turned and she gasped, clinging to the back of the chair as if on a storm-tossed boat. Would he be able to push his way in this time? Or had he come to pour more vile nonsense into her ears?

‘Miss?’

It wasn’t him!

‘Yes!’ she hissed, leaping from the chair. Through the crack in the door she pleaded in a whisper. ‘Yes – oh, don’t lock it again, please don’t!’

‘Let me open the door,’ Elsie Barber said. She seemed to be speaking alarmingly loudly. ‘You want to get out of here, miss.’

Hauling the chair from the door, Margaret thought, surely he can hear, he’ll be out any moment! But she had to take this chance if it was being offered. If it was not a trick . . .

Elsie Barber stood in the darkness of the passage.

‘Come on – out of the front.’ Now that she could see Margaret, she was whispering.

‘Thank you . . . Oh, thank you . . .’ Margaret seized her coat and rushed out into the hall. Elsie Barber was shuffling along towards the front door. Margaret looked back fearfully as the old woman undid the bolt.

‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘’E’s asleep at long last. And he’s not going anywhere – I’ve locked ’im in.’

‘But . . .’ Margaret was hugely reassured by this. ‘What about in the morning?’

‘Oh, never mind ’im,’ Elsie Barber said. ‘I’ll deal with ’im. ’E’s another of ’em – just like my pig of a husband was. You want to get as far away from ’im as you can while you’ve got the chance.’

She thrust Margaret out on to the step with surprising strength. The street was almost invisible in the morning mist.

‘Go on. ’E don’t want anything off me – it’s you ’e wants. You clear off out of ’ere. I won’t be unlocking that door for a good few hours yet.’

‘What time is it?’ Margaret looked about her, confused.

‘Gone four.’

‘Which way is the railway station?’