She tugged on the neck of her T-shirt. Her throat was dry and her back was damp with sweat. Perhaps she should think about going down. She froze at the sudden rattle emanating from the other end of the loft. The ladder. Someone was coming up, and she was too far away to see who it was.

‘Morgan? Is that you?’ she called, staring at the hatch.

No response. She shuffled back to the hatch opening and looked down. There was nobody coming up to join her, because the ladder was gone.

Shuffling forward, she approached the open loft hatch and looked down. Her heart tugged in her chest at the sight of the ladder lying on its side on the floor. There were few things Naomi hated more than enclosed spaces, but she would not give Morgan the satisfaction of sounding scared.

‘Morgan,’ she said, her voice firm. ‘I’m up here, can you put the ladder back?’

But all she heard was the kitchen door click shut.

The little . . . Naomi fumbled for her phone, muttering beneath her breath as her screen light illuminated the loft space. But who would she call? Ed was hours away and Connie had long since left. She drew up Morgan’s number, grumbling under her breath. She had really crossed the line this time. Her grip on the phone tightened as Morgan ignored her call. Drawing up her texts, she composed a message, commanding her stepdaughter to bring the ladder back immediately.

She listened for movement at the hatch. There was nothing but the television blaring what sounded like a Disney movie from the lounge. But who had turned it on? It was more Grace’s taste than Morgan’s. Was she winding her up? As she tried to calm her temper, Naomi took stock. There was no way she was jumping from the hatch. It was too far, for a start. She could end up breaking her neck. She could wait it out, but that gave Morgan all the power. Her expression soured as she devised a plan. She knew why Morgan had done it. This was more than an act of rebellion. This was war.

She eyed each corner of the loft space, which was growing more sinister by the minute. Counting to ten, she took a breath of stuffy air before ringing Morgan’s phone again. She was rewarded with an answering machine. Naomi’s jaw tightened in frustration.

‘This is kidnapping, you know!’ Her words echoed around the loft space.