The realisation hit Jo like a bucket of ice-cold water. Clare was in the bathroom. And Fuller was trying to smash the bathroom door down. There was no way Stone and his men were getting past that fridge freezer in a hurry. It was going to be down to her to get Clare out. But how? It had to be the window. Except it was shut. Could Clare hear her in there? The window was double-glazed, but there was an old-fashioned air vent just to one side of it. Maybe if she could get close to it she could make Clare hear her.

She waded the last few feet through the nettles to the end wall of the bathroom.

Standing directly beneath the vent, she yelled, ‘Hey, Clare. You in there?’

There was a moment’s pause before she heard her friend’s voice. ‘Jo, is that you? Oh, thank God. I’m in the bathroom. Fuller’s trying to batter the door down. I’ve got it barricaded, but I don’t know how long it’ll last.’

‘Do you think you can make it through the window?’

Clare said, ‘It’ll be tight, but I think so. Although it’s locked and I can’t find the key.’

‘Keep looking!’

‘What do you think I’m bloody doing?’

From somewhere inside the house Jo could hear Stone. ‘It’s no good, Fuller. You’re not going anywhere. Give yourself up!’

Still the hammering continued. There was the sound of splintering wood, followed by metal on metal. As if he was hitting a steel drum.

Clare yelled, ‘It’s no good, Jo. I can’t find it. I don’t know how long I can keep him out. He’s through the wood to the tumble drier now.’

The desperation in Clare’s voice was unmistakable.

Think, Jo, think! Suddenly a flash of inspiration struck her. ‘Is there a loo in there?’

‘Yes. Why?’

Jo said, ‘Open the cistern, Clare!’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Just do it!’ Jo ordered.

There was a moment’s silence broken only by the crash of hammer on metal.

‘Jesus, Jo. You’re a fucking genius!’

‘You can thank me later. Just get that freaking window open.’

There was a pause, then the window swung open. She could see Clare’s head.

‘Come on. Shift that skinny English arse of yours!’

The sound of hammering on wood and metal now was incessant. Clare’s face disappeared from the window.

Clare shouted, ‘Hang on. This is going to be tight.’

What the hell was she doing in there?