They’re going to find me, they’re going to find me . . .

‘Shit a brick!’ said Nipper’s voice.

‘What?’ asked Harlan.

‘Fucking great spider in there. Hate those fuckers,’ he said.

‘She’s not in there?’ asked Harlan, sounding bored.

‘No, boss,’ said Nipper.

But he hadn’t come beyond the jut of the chimney breast, hadn’t come as far as the rafters in the far corner. That fucking spider had saved her . . .

‘Get in there, have a look. The chimney goes up there, she could be hiding behind it.’

Belle felt an icy shudder of pure hysteria then. They had her mum. And now they were going to get her too. She could see shadows moving at the door and then movement as bulky blond Nipper wedged himself into the crawl space.

What to do, what to do?

Belle lifted a shaking hand and swiped at the bats.

Instantaneously they flew, chittering, not out of their usual exit hole because Belle was in front of it. In confusion and fear they bashed against her face in a leathery flurry, then they swarmed out through the crawl space door and into the master bedroom. Nipper fell back with a shout, swearing and stumbling as a hundred tiny projectiles flooded out over him and flittered around out in the main body of the room.

‘It’s only a few bats, what the fuck’s wrong with you?’ Harlan was saying, laughing at Nipper’s alarm. ‘Christ, you’re such a bloody moron,’ he said, and the crawl space door was kicked shut, bouncing against the ruined bolt to hang inches open.

More movement now, out in the master bedroom. Then footfall out on the landing, the heavy tread of the men and the lighter one of Jill, who was fighting them, trying to resist as they hustled her down the stairs. They were taking Mum out of here. To where? Belle heard car doors open and close. The roar of a motor. They were going. She heard car wheels crunching over the gravel driveway and out to the gate, then out into the lane and away.

103

The cupboard door was ajar and light was filtering in. She saw the spider that had spooked Nipper scuttle over the lip of the door and out into the bedroom. Tiny shadows moved out there. The bats, trapped inside the room, denied their exit route. She stayed still. Her hips ached where she was bent double, her arm was going numb, but she didn’t dare move.

All was silent, but this could be a trap. He could be out there still, waiting. Knowing that if she was still hiding in the house, sooner or later she would have to show herself. Sweat was pouring out of her. She blinked, eyes stinging. Couldn’t even move to wipe the moisture away.

Minutes passed. Then hours.