In her lucid moments she’d thought of her father, lying on his deathbed, calling for her. And all she’d wanted was to get out of here and go to him. When those attending to her refused to talk to her, she’d become angry and had lashed out at them – something she’d never done in her life. But violence seemed her only weapon, as she couldn’t get through to them in any other way. When she’d fought with one man, he’d hit her. His face had come close to hers, and he’d threatened vile things that she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear – one of them had been a straitjacket, and having her mouth and eyes taped. Now this had happened to her, and she was encased.

The other threat had been that he’d come in the night, when she was entrapped, and would have her – and she knew what he meant. And with him threatening this, it dawned on her what was happening to some of the other women in the cells next to hers. For their cries changed in the night, from despair to screams of ‘Naw, don’t – leave me alone’, although some seemed to like what was happening, as cries of pleasure also echoed around her.

Barely conscious when they’d brought her in, she’d registered a long corridor with doors leading off it. Lots of doors, and from behind each one she’d heard cries, moans and weeping.

‘She’s waking,’ she’d heard one of her stretcher-bearers say. Then they had stopped their progress and she had felt the same sharp sting of something going into her arm. The tunnel had appeared once more, and she’d sunk into it.

How long this routine had gone on for, she hadn’t known. The dark was impenetrable and clawed at her.

‘That’s better. Reet, I’ll remove your eye covers, lass. Keep still.’

Mags winced as the plaster was torn from her eyelids, stretching and pulling her lashes, till she knew most of them must have come out. Tears stung her already-sore eyes. Keeping them shut wasn’t her choice, but each time she tried to open them they smarted and the light hurt.

‘Now I’ll be back later. And if you’re still calm, I’ll take the plaster off your mouth.’

Real tears joined the ones caused by the extreme pain of the plaster removal. How could this have happened? Why did Harold do this to her? He hadn’t been near to visit or to check on her welfare. And what of her father? Dear Daddy, I’m so sorry. Please don’t die. Please wait for me to get out of here, as surely I must.

Only her father and Harold would have any authority to sign her out, other than the medical staff. Harold had looked at her with glee when she’d pleaded with him. Not that he let the doctor see that.

Suddenly it began to dawn on Mags that Harold had found a way to get his hands on all that she and her father owned, without having to be bothered with her. He’s probably with his precious Susan at this very moment. Oh God, I can’t bear it, I can’t.