He closed the door quietly behind him and the room sank back into darkness.

He pulled the bolt across.

Klunk.

I felt for the doorknob in the blackness. I rattled it hard.

“Robbie! Robbie! You’ve got to let me out! They mustn’t take her to camp. Camp’s not what you think it is. Did you know? Let me out. Please – let me out. I’ve got to help her.”

Bang-bang-bang.

I thumped the door.

Bang-bang-bang.

“Shut up, Maggie. You’re not getting out so you might as well save your energy.”

I leaned my head on the wall.

I blinked. I breathed.

I could see fuzzy outlines. The door frame, the sofa.

The sofa. It was the only thing in the room, apart from me and the rug. Could I use it to break down the door? If I lifted it up on one end? Pushed it over?

Don’t be stupid, Maggie. It’d never work. And I’d still have Robbie to deal with.

I collapsed on to the sofa, banged my forehead with heels of my hands.

Think, Maggie.

Think.

Think.

Think.

Tick, tick.

Tick, tick.

Grandad Cruise’s watch ticked away the precious, precious minutes.

Five.

Ten.

Twenty.

Twenty-five.

Robbie coughed, still there behind the door.

It was no good. I couldn’t wait any longer.

There was only one way out.

CHAPTER 30

There was a wide moon and a starry sky. Peering through the tiny window, I could make out the square below me. Andrew Solsbury in the middle. The laundry on the far side.

I pressed my dry tongue to the roof of my mouth.

I had to do it.

I had to climb down.

I pulled the knife out from its sheath. Maybe I could break the glass with the handle. But Robbie would hear for sure.

I felt round the edges of the window, pushing it as I went. Which bit was sticking? The side? The bottom?

Here. I slid the blade in between the window and the frame. Eased it round, levered it loose. Tried lifting the window again. It creaked and groaned and – there – it opened, just a little. I tucked the knife away, shifted position and heaved at the window one more time.

It came free. Raised right up. Cool, fresh air rushed into the room. The smell of back-garden digesters and dairy cows. The smell of Fennis Wick. I breathed it in.

Voices, down on the ground outside. Too far away for me to hear what they were saying, but I could tell who it was. Mayor Anderson and Neel. They were round the side of the house, where the jeep was.

I didn’t have much time.

I put one leg over the edge of the window. Got a foothold on the ledge below. Gripped the frame with shaky hands.

Dark ground swirled underneath me.

Don’t look down, Maggie. Never look down.

I twisted round to face the room.