He doesn’t respond. The strain of moving him has loosened the tourniquet around my hand and I’m starting to feel light-headed again from the blood loss. I use my teeth to tighten it, and then cradle my boy against me, rocking us back and forth as I gaze up at the cobwebbed ceiling. I was so focused on rescuing Peter I didn’t think beyond this moment, but if I can’t figure out a way to get us out of here, then I will have saved my son from a quiet, peaceful, quick death from hypothermia only for him to endure an agonisingly protracted one from dehydration. I might as well put him back in the freezer now.

And then suddenly the light goes out.

Stacey must have realised it was still on and switched it off from upstairs. For a moment I panic: the cellar is as black as pitch, and I can’t even see my child in my arms.

But he’s breathing. I feel him stir, and the soft puff of his breath on my face.

I’m a scientist. I’m blessed with a rational, analytic brain. I’m going to think us out of this cellar.

‘It’s OK,’ I tell Peter, hugging him close. ‘It’s going to be OK, sweetheart. I’m going to get us out of here.’

I am not going to let my son die in this place.

kyperlife

harper to the rescue!

LIKE DISLIKE

Welcome back, my lovely Kyper peeps! I know you haven’t heard from me for a couple of days and I’m super sorry about that, but it’s been a crazy week. The good news is, this time tomorrow I’ll be back with my boys and Kyle at our teeny little rented mouse-house, though we’re not going to be there for long. I can’t tell you how I know that, but just trust me, OK?

Look, I wasn’t going to say anything, and maybe I shouldn’t, but I’ve just got this bad feeling, you know? I’m sure everything’s going to be fine, but just in case – God, I’m sure I’m being super ridiculous and superstitious, but you know when you just get that sense?

Anyway, I can always delete this afterwards. Like, I’m sure I’ll just delete this later. Because it’s all going to turn out fine—

[Pause]

Fuck it. I’ve had enough of playing this game. I’m going to delete this as soon as I get back anyway, so I might as well drop the act and just spit it out.

So. Stacey Porter, our big-hearted, award-winning, ‘People’s Choice’ national treasure, is the one who crashed her car into me. She tried to kill me to shut me up about her pension-stealing husband, but that’s not the big reveal.