I have to escape and to do that I must summon every bit of strength I have left. He falters a little as we enter the tall, ragged maze and I take advantage of this and bite down hard on his hand. He yelps and releases his grip.

I run on ahead, disorientated and scared. Behind me I can hear him shouting, his voice ringing out into the air.

‘Iris, don’t do this,’ he cries. ‘Stay with me. I’ll look after you. I’m the only person who can protect you.’

I take a left turn but go tumbling into a wall of sharp holly, a dead end. Pain shoots up my leg as the spikes puncture my skin. It’s my recurring nightmare made real. I turn round, my breath catching in my throat, desperate to find a way out.

Then, miraculously, the sun comes out from behind a towering black cloud. It illuminates my way and I take a right, then a left, then right again. I’m almost there. I can sense it. But as I stumble forward I feel a thump on the back of my head then a weight pressing down on me, pinning me to the ground.

‘Look what you’ve done, Iris,’ he whispers in my ear. ‘You’ve ruined the story.’

He pulls my head back and points west. I see plumes of smoke rising above the spiky hedge from the direction of the house, then orange flames bursting into the sky, like the torches on the night of the party.

‘Please,’ I say. ‘Please just let me –’

But before I can get the words out I hear the sound of faint voices and the crackle of a radio. It’s coming from behind, from the entrance to the maze. The police are in here, trying to find me. He hears it too. He stares at me with unblinking eyes then twists me round to face him.

Fear, like nothing I have ever felt before, grips my body, paralysing me. I try to scream but nothing happens. It’s like I’ve been immobilized by some invisible force.

‘This is it, Iris,’ he hisses, placing his hands round my throat. ‘This is where it ends.’

I try to yank him off me but he’s too strong. White spots appear in front of my eyes and my chest constricts. I’m going. I can feel it.

Then I hear a loud cracking sound and a female voice calling my name. I feel the weight of him lift away, hear the crunch of his shoes on the uneven ground. Yet I stay where I am, too terrified to move.

Then I hear the noise of many feet running towards me. I lift my head and see a stream of uniformed police officers. And at the back of them, her red hair wild and dishevelled, her face twisted with fright, Lottie.

39. Now

Six hours later