Marie shook her head fearfully.

‘Marie. Quick.’ Carly was as careful as she could be but had to yank the rope over Marie’s hands to free her, wincing as she saw the red welts left in its wake. Carly turned her attention to Leah. ‘Shh.’ Carly removed the tape covering her mouth. ‘It’s okay. I promise.’

Soon they were all untied.

Free, but not.

There was one last angry shout from the corridor outside and then the sound of bolts sliding closed.

One.

Two.

Three.

Three bolts for three sisters.

It was then the screaming started.

Chapter Eight

Leah

Now

While I’m fetching my coat from Marie’s kitchen I collect Carly’s denim jacket. I know she won’t stay here without me. There are often awkward silences when we’re all together nowadays and those silences can be deafening.

‘Sorry to rush off,’ I say to Marie. ‘And sorry about the TV thing. If you need some money?’

It’s a genuine offer although I’ve no idea what I’ll do if she takes me up on it. Each month end we’re practically stuffing our hands down the back of the sofa, fishing out a few meagre coins along with Archie’s Lego bricks and sweet wrappers, so we can afford milk. George’s architectural practice is floundering. My part-time job doesn’t pay much, it’s more for my mental health, to get me out of the house. It gives me the semblance of being able to function normally among other adults. I’m reluctant to increase my hours because I don’t want somebody else picking Archie up from nursery every day, even if it is Carly. I think being a mother is the most important job of all but I do feel I should be doing more to help financially. When Archie starts school next year I’ll be able to work nine to three every day, which will take the pressure off George.

‘Thanks but I’ll be okay. The theatres will be scheduling their next quarter shows after Christmas and I’m sure something will turn up. I won’t starve.’

‘In the meantime, get that new man of yours to take you out to dinner.’ Carly gives a hollow laugh. She doesn’t offer to lend Marie any money. One too many times in the past we’ve pushed notes into her hand, knowing that she’ll drink them. Knowing that we’ll never get them back.

‘Carly, do you want to stay and have a bite to eat?’ Marie puts a hand on Carly’s arm. Her bracelets jangle. She seems jittery at the thought of being on her own. ‘I’ve no plans tonight. I haven’t got much in but…’

‘I’ve got to go, sorry.’ Carly pulls a face, quickly hugs Marie and steps outside. I am left with my twin. Our relationship is strained but it’s still a wrench to leave her. It always is. ‘I’ve forgotten my mug,’ I say.

‘I’ll go and fetch—’

‘Don’t. You can give it back to me another time. Let’s not leave it too long. Come and see Archie?’