‘Shush!’ Becky lifted a finger to her lips. ‘Listen!’

Upstairs, the radio went off. Any minute now, Karin knew, and the man would be coming down. Everyone looked at Simon, still convinced he was going to take charge of the situation.

‘It’s a mistake,’ repeated Lydia. ‘Yeah, that’s what’s happened, he’s picked up the wrong kids.’

‘We’ve got to show him we’re not scared.’ Becky got everyone to hold hands again. ‘And that if he lets us go, we won’t say a word to anyone.’

‘I won’t!’ cried Lydia. ‘I won’t say anything!’

‘He’s not going to hurt us,’ said Becky.

‘How do you know that?’ Michelle hissed. ‘You just don’t know that!’

Karin’s left hand hurt. Trying to wring out every last bit of comfort and reassurance from her grasp, Paul was squeezing too hard. Cobwebs trembled in the draught coming from the ragged black holes where pipes disappeared into the walls.

They all felt a terrible foreboding and pressed tightly together. Karin felt the clammy skin on their foreheads, the smell of their hot, greasy hair. Looking down at the smooth concrete, all she could see was their scuffed trainers.

And then Lydia broke the circle. She raced to the far wall and sank down, folding her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them. The remaining kids stared at Simon, waiting for him to do something.

They heard slow, steady steps on the wooden stairs leading down to the basement – bang, bang, bang – and then the lock turned in the door.

‘Just let me do… the talking.’ Simon looked sick. ‘Just let me—’

But when the heavy wooden door opened, they weren’t prepared for the furious scowl on the man’s face as he ran inside, jerking the knife.

‘Over there, all of you! Where I can see you!’

They abandoned the circle to flee to the wall where Lydia huddled. The man lurched forward, moving around the cowering kids, jabbing the knife close.

They cringed against the brick, sobbing. The man flicked the tip of the knife towards the corner, making them crawl on their hands and knees towards it. Expecting to be killed at any moment, they curled there. He pushed his glasses up his slippery nose with a forefinger, an oddly delicate gesture, and Karin saw how his head shook in a nervous tic.

‘You are guests in my house. That means you do as I say, you follow my rules. You have good reason to be scared, because I’m not a good man, I’m not… normal. And if you don’t do what I say, this is what you’ll get!’ He made a stabbing motion with the knife. ‘Say, yes, Jerry!’

‘Yes, Jerry!’ they all cried.