‘This is it,’ Matt said. ‘This is when whoever this is asks for something we don’t have and we have to try and sort this mess out.’

‘You still think it’s money?’

‘It’s always money. What else could it be? We’ll do whatever we have to, Annabelle. Sell the house. Ask my sister. Your brother. They can have everything we own.’

She closed her eyes. ‘What if it’s not enough? What if we’re nowhere near having what they want?’

‘We’ll offer what we can,’ Matt said.

‘And if that’s not enough?’ Annabelle said. ‘If they think it’s too risky to be worth it to them and we never hear from them again?’

‘We’ll take the risk anyway. Beg them to return the kids. We’ll promise not to pursue them if they do. We’ll promise not to tell anyone. They can have everything and walk away.’ He got to his feet. ‘But we can cross that bridge later.’ He held out her hand for the phone and typed a message.

What do you want?

They stared at the screen, waiting. The silence seemed to stretch forever, then the reply came.

The ransom is Annabelle. If you want to see your children again, you will exchange them for her.

The silence stretched on.

‘No,’ Annabelle said eventually. ‘No, not this. That’s crazy. It’s impossible.’

‘I’m going to call the number,’ Matt said. ‘Talk to them. This is madness.’

Before he could call, another message arrived.

You have my demand. It is simple and non-negotiable. Further instructions will come tomorrow morning. You will have one chance to agree. If you accept my terms, your children will be returned to you unharmed. If not, you will never see them alive again.

Matt pressed call. She watched as his face contorted in agony.

‘Shit!’ he said. ‘Too late. Just a message saying there’s no voicemail. The phone’s dead. It’s been switched off, or destroyed.’

Annabelle barely heard the words. She folded her arms tightly.

‘Matt,’ she said. ‘It’s me. I’m the ransom.’

‘No. That’s not going to happen. It’s ludicrous.’

‘Maybe,’ Annabelle said. ‘But it’s happening. This is real, Matt.’

‘There’s a way out of this,’ he said. ‘There has to be.’

‘Then what is it?’ she said. ‘What the hell are we going to do?’

PART TWO

Late July 2004

‘You’ll find someone else. You will. I know it. It doesn’t matter what you say, you’ll forget me and find some posh bitch.’