“Take the Cruise girl upstairs and lock her in with the other one.”

Grif put a tight hand on my shoulder. “C’mon,” he said. He stank of homebrew.

He pushed me up a full four staircases. At the top there was a narrow landing. Neel sat on the floor in front of a closed door, picking bits out of his teeth.

“Extra one for you to guard,” said Grif.

Neel opened the door and bundled me in.

It was a long loft room, with short walls and sloped ceilings. A tatty old sofa and a thin rug on the floor. Light spilled in through a skylight. The only other window was the tiny one at the end – the one that overlooked the square – the highest window in town. The one I’d seen movement in.

Una.

Where was she?

I looked out of the window. The whole south of the town spread out before me. The caravans, the allotments, Frog Alley, the tops of our houses. My head swirled and my fingers gripped the window frame. I never was good at being up high.

Mrs Gebby, outside the laundry.

“Mrs Gebby! Mrs Gebby!” I banged on the glass.

She couldn’t hear. But maybe if I opened the window?

Even the thought made my stomach roll.

Feel your fear, Maggie. Feel your fear.

I got hold of the window, yanked it upwards.

It wouldn’t shift.

I changed position, got a better angle, yanked again.

It was jammed shut.

I banged again.

“Mrs Gebby! Mrs Gebby!”

What was that? A sound, from the sofa.

“Una? Una? Are you here?”

I ducked behind the sofa and there she was. Curled up, on her side. Just like her dad in the forest. Her hair fell over her face.

“Una!” I knelt down beside her. “Are you OK?”

She turned her head. Her eyes were swollen with tears. “Go away,” she said.

“What? No – I can help you – I can—”

“I don’t want your help. I hate you, Maggie. I hate you.”

“But, Una—”

“Can’t you hear me? I hate you. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met in my whole life. I didn’t always believe my dad when he told me there were wicked people around, but I do now. Go away. Leave me alone.”

“I didn’t mean for—”

“Go away!”

I got up. Stepped back.

I looked at my hands, still stained with her dad’s blood.

She was right. I was dirty, dangerous, deceitful.

Just like Mayor Anderson.

I sat down. Una was there, right behind me. Only the back of the sofa divided us.

I curled up, just like her. Knees to my chest.

A sob boiled up inside me and erupted out. And another. And another. And another.

I clutched my hands to my eyes and soaked them with tears.

CHAPTER 29

Klunk.

The door unbolted.

I opened my eyes. Darkness. Night-time already.