He eased her off the bed frame, pulled her to her feet, then blindfolded her with a scarf. Her legs protested at taking her weight, her shoulders an agony of cramps. She was led into the outside world of sound. Blackbirds, pigeons, distant traffic. Faint music, and voices, perhaps in an adjacent garden. No, it was the muffled bass of a car stereo in the street. She wasn’t sure if Gary had taken a tool from the shed with him. If so, it was probably the knife. Something small. She would play for time. He led her through a door, and up a step. The change in noise levels made it clear she was indoors. Somewhere stale. Unemptied bins and unwashed bodies. She heard flies. She was guided carefully up a staircase. The smell became a stench, and there was a rumbling snore, like a blocked drain trying to empty. Eventually she was manoeuvred into a small room that reeked of air freshener, the blindfold removed and the door shut behind her.

‘Be quick,’ he said through the door.

She was in a tiny traditional bathroom, woodchip wallpaper painted mauve, a horseshoe-shaped pink acrylic rug snug round the base of the WC. A big jar of potpourri on the floor. Black mould furred the ceiling edges and the rotten window frame, held shut with rusty screws. The cistern was old-fashioned cast iron, high on the wall with a dangling chain and a black rubber pull. She shot the flimsy bolt and used the facilities. Sharp glossy toilet paper, more like baking parchment. The spare roll sat wrapped on the floor, in a green wrapper. Izal Strong Medicated. She’d heard of the stuff – almost wartime vintage, she thought – but had never experienced it. Surprised it was still available.

She finished up and rinsed her hands at the tiny grubby basin. Not cleaned in a long time.

Gary tapped on the door and she unlocked it. She submitted to the blindfold as he said: ‘I’m going to introduce you to my mother.’ She took just a few guided steps. Gary knocked on another door. ‘Mum, I’ve got her here.’

‘Brrnnghn.’

The low growling sound from within didn’t seem female nor quite human, more like the voice of several people at once. It took a moment to realise what had been said: ‘Bring her in.’ The door was opened and the odour almost overpowered her. She could hear the whine of an extractor fan, hard put to match its task.

A dead body. That’s what was in here. It couldn’t be anything else. She was suddenly very frightened. If she hadn’t heard the voice, she’d have thought Gary’s mother was actually dead in here, perhaps with others. She felt her knees go weak, and reached out for a wall as she was ushered into the room. Gary steadied her hand until it found something vertical. A door frame.