‘There? I didn’t even see that. I’ve been looking in the basement. And all over. You didn’t know I’ve been in and out of this place, did you? Couldn’t find a fucking thing.’ He tested the ladder against the wall, keeping an eye on her. ‘You sure it’s up there?’

She nodded.

‘The money Alex told me about?’ he said. ‘You know about the money?’

She nodded again. ‘Yes, it’s there.’

‘You get it.’

She didn’t move because her body wouldn’t obey, but he thought she was waiting, and he stepped back to give her space. She climbed the ladder as he watched. Her skirt swung out, she was scared he was looking.

‘What’s up there?’ he said.

She unbolted the trapdoor. The trap was right there, resting on the joists. He didn’t know that. She climbed up into the roof on hands and knees. It felt like escaping, just to be up there, that it would be possible to get free now. Her fear went, and she felt quick, and sharp. She looked down at him, staring up from the corridor, naked skin and eyes, the tender skull beneath his hair. She moved sideways, out of his eye line, into the dark.

‘What are you doing?’

She looked around, in the airless heat. No windows, no gaps or holes, no roof light or access panel, no chimney, no way of getting out.

‘You got it?’ he said.

‘Yes.’

‘What are you doing?’

She looked for a weapon, but there was nothing. Forensically, she remembered the empty, weightless snake traps, the rubbish bags, carpet, nothing. No fire extinguisher. No tools. Nothing.

‘Come on!’

‘One second.’

He was just below but he couldn’t see her. She was still on her own. She felt a sort of bliss.

‘I’m coming up,’ he said.

‘No. It’s here.’

She picked up the money in its box. It was heavy. She held it above the open hatch to show him. His vulnerable face looked up at her. She could throw it at his head. She could throw it hard down onto his face. But she couldn’t find it in herself to do it. He hadn’t hurt her. She didn’t dare to start a fight with him. She imagined him holding up his hands to protect himself, as it glanced off, and then the impossibility of being quick enough, or wounding him badly enough, to save herself. She handed it to him. She was giving him what he wanted.

‘Jesus, it’s heavy,’ he said, halfway up the ladder.

His bony hands reached in. He took it. The second he was clear she closed the trapdoor and knelt on it. She heard him below her.

‘Hey –’

‘You can go now. The police are coming.’