‘Yes,’ she said, ‘what was that?’

Her voice had been lowered to express breathless wonder.

‘What was that? Is there someone in there? Hm! Is there someone in there?’

Diana realised there was no point making a ruckus. Her nostrils flared to their greatest circumference when she sucked in air and tried to think clearly. She was in some kind of cupboard, but she wasn’t sure how she’d got in it. Her memories were slowly coming back, but it was like picking through the debris of a serious bender. She had been at Susso’s. She remembered Susso’s drawn face clearly. Her kitchen. And the squirrel. How it had fixed on her through the uneven window pane. And that figure coming toward her, closing in with jerky steps like something out of a horror film. But then there was nothing. The guide in her brain refused to go any further.

She had no idea how long she had been locked in the cupboard. Her hands were wrapped in a clump of tape, so she could neither get to her watch nor remove the tape covering her face. They hadn’t given her anything to eat or drink and from time to time she thought they must have forgotten all about her. That she would have to sit in the cupboard until she was desiccated like an old fruit. Those kinds of thoughts frightened her, so she tried to push them back down. She was severely dehydrated and could ill afford to pant out whatever moisture she had left in her body. In her miserable state, she clung to strangely rational lines of reasoning. That they taped up my mouth is a good thing, she thought, because that helps me preserve fluids. That’s to my advantage. That’s to my advantage. The words got stuck in a feverish loop and she sensed she was losing the ability to think clearly.

She had sunk into a stupor when she suddenly heard voices outside. Several voices, and not quiet, like before. A woman speaking Norwegian. Diana took the fact that they were upset as a sign that they would soon let her out. And that turned out to be correct. The door opened and a hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled her out. Her legs buckled and she collapsed like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

She stayed on the ground, with the smell of grass in her nostrils. She thought she could hear the sound of waves from far away. A quiet conversation in Norwegian. That woman. She couldn’t hear what she was saying; they were too far away and speaking too softly.

A car started, a big car with a rumbling diesel engine, the one she had been locked in. It idled for a while before driving off. It passed by her very close. They’re running me over, she had time to think, before the sound disappeared into the distance.