Kate closes her eyes. ‘What’s outside?’ she asks. ‘In the warehouse.’

The woman casts her eyes downwards, pressing her lips together. ‘It’s better you don’t know,’ she says.

‘Tell me,’ Kate says, almost shouting, eyes alert with an animal fear.

‘I wish there was a way I could help you,’ the woman says, turning away. ‘You’re lucky he didn’t throw you into the swimming pool. He did that to me once, knew that I can’t swim. Can you?’

‘I prefer the sea,’ Kate says, remembering how she was nearly suffocated by the pool cover in Cornwall.

The woman stares at Kate for a moment. ‘You’re a strong swimmer?’

‘When I don’t get cramp. Why?’

‘Nothing.’ But Kate knows she’s holding something back. The woman checks the kitchen door again. Kate does the same.

‘Why are you here?’ Kate asks, her voice quiet now. She glances up at the woman’s head, searching for scars.

‘I’m not like the others who work here,’ the woman says. ‘I’m desperate to leave.’

‘So, why don’t you?’

‘I can’t. I’ve tried. Like you. Several times.’

‘But you’re not wearing a neckband.’

‘I used to.’ She touches her throat, as if remembering the pain. ‘Now I have an implant.’ She pulls down the top of her blouse to reveal a scar across her chest, above her heart. ‘If I leave here, go beyond the perimeter fence, pick up a mobile phone, do anything to try to escape, my heart will…’

The back door swings open. Putin breezes in and Kate recoils, tensing her legs and stomach. More pain.

‘Time to go,’ he barks, avoiding eye contact with her.

Putin says something to the woman that Kate doesn’t understand, then marches Kate out of the kitchen and up towards the warehouse. It’s agony to move, but he ignores her pleas to slow down, dragging her by her wrist when she tries to stop. In his other hand he’s holding the remote for the neckband.

‘Try anything and I will use this again,’ he says, waving the remote in her face as they approach the warehouse.

When they reach the door, Putin looks around and pulls out his phone, which is buzzing.

‘One minute,’ he says, holding a finger up at her. He seems distracted and starts to chat quietly but urgently on the phone.

Kate stares at the warehouse door, wondering what lies behind it. A chill runs through her. The sky is pewter grey now, the sea dark and choppy. The woman’s right. There’s no escape from here. Her one attempt failed. The van driver was too far away to have heard her. It’s hopeless.