‘Somebody took it. But – Annabelle. The kids were in it. They took the kids too.’

His wife didn’t answer. She folded her arms, then lifted one hand to her mouth, then put her hands in her lap.

‘What?’ she said, a barely controlled panic in her voice belying her attempts to compose herself. ‘What did you say?’

‘The car was gone. With the kids.’

‘Maybe they took off the handbrake and it rolled away.’

‘No. I checked.’

‘Maybe you didn’t check in the right place.’ She stood up. ‘We need to look for them. We can take my car. Maybe they drove it off somehow. Or the police moved it. If it was parked illegally the police may have moved it. Did you call them?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I didn’t.’

‘You didn’t? Why not? We have to call them, now!’

‘We can’t.’

She was staring at him, her eyes wide, her nostrils flared. ‘Why not? Of course we can call the police. Our children are missing!’

‘We can’t,’ he said. ‘There’s more. And it’s worse.’

Annabelle

She was reeling from his breathless arrival. She could hardly grasp what he was saying. His words were close to meaningless sounds, but she forced herself to focus.

He had told her he’d left the kids in the car, and the car had been taken.

The kids were gone.

He had not called the police.

She could make no sense of this. The kids were in their car and someone had taken it and he had not called the police.

But it was the last thing he had said that scared her the most. He had said there was more, and it was worse.

How could anything be worse?

For a moment she was not sure she wanted to find out. She had an overwhelming urge to close her eyes and pretend this was not happening. All she wanted was for this to stop, right now, and be over before it got going. Because whatever it was, it was not good.

But she had no choice.

‘Matt,’ she said. ‘Just tell me.’

He looked at her, his face a mask of shock and fear. ‘They’ve been kidnapped,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Someone is holding our kids for ransom.’

The word hung in the air between them.

‘Kidnapped,’ she said, the word odd in her mouth, almost as if she did not recognize – or could not believe – what it meant. ‘Did you say kidnapped?’

‘Yes.’ His face was pale, the blood drained from it.

‘OK,’ she said. It sounded totally inadequate, but what was she supposed to say? This was a total catastrophe: normal language didn’t work. But there was good news in this. Ransom meant you paid the kidnapper’s price and they would release the hostages, which meant there was hope.

So this was good, in a way.

‘What do they want?’ she said.