Connie bent and laid a hand on Jared’s shoulder. At her touch, he seemed to come to, focusing his gaze on her again. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry to put you in this position,’ he repeated grabbing her hand. ‘I just can’t live without you, Connie.’

She was shaking and speechless as she tried to wrench her hand away. But his grip was like a vice.

‘I want to die … with you.’ Tears filled his turquoise eyes – eyes she had found so beguiling in those moments that now seemed from another world. ‘Will you let me? Will you stay with me, Connie?’ He slid further to the side. ‘Don’t get help. Please … no help …’

Connie looked across at Devan, who had given up on the door and was staring at Jared, breathing heavily, an unreadable expression on his face

‘OK,’ her husband said, giving a cool shrug. ‘If that’s what you want. You’ve caused enough fucking trouble.’ He turned away.

Connie was stunned. ‘For Christ’s sake, Devan. We have to do something. We can’t just sit here and watch him die.’

Her husband flopped down onto the bed, the back he presented to the room rigid. ‘What the hell else can we do? He’s trapped us in here … And it’s what he wants. He just said so.’

Quickly stepping over the recumbent body, she hurried round the bed and stood looking down on Devan’s dark head. ‘Stop it. Don’t talk like that. You’re a doctor, for heaven’s sake – there must be something you can do.’

Devan glared up at her. ‘There’s nothing, Con. And why the fuck should I care, anyway? This creep has ruined our lives.’

For a split second, she allowed herself the thought. Finally, to be free. No longer having to look over her shoulder or place sinister significance in the most trivial things. To be able to rest in the knowledge that Jared would no longer haunt her every waking thought. She took a faltering breath. Laying her hands on Devan’s shoulder, she shook him till he lifted his bowed head. ‘We have at least to try to help him,’ she said, with quiet strength.

After a second, Devan seemed to come to, his anger morphing into a dazed frown. ‘How can we? Like I said, the bastard’s locked us in, removed all means of communication.’ He glanced around the room, shaking his head. ‘We could stand at the window and shout, I suppose. But on a night like this, who would hear? There’s only Mrs Browne next door and she’s stone deaf.’

It was true. The house on the other side was a holiday let and empty at this time of year. The Methodist hall and a small car park were across the street. Stacy, on the corner, was the closest and he was completely out of earshot.