Swallowing hard, she tried to pull herself together. There was no time to call the police now. Even if they did get here within fifteen minutes, that could still be too late. She had to do something immediately and she was on her own.

She pushed open the door of the car, her heart turning over furiously in her chest. Rarely had she ever felt so frightened at what might confront her right now.

She took a deep breath and ran over to Frank’s house, slowing down as she entered the driveway, warily observing for any movement from the inside.

As she got closer, she saw that the front door was slightly ajar and she could hear the faint sounds of a movie playing in the living room. It sounded like some kind of kids’ film. Treading very softly, and holding her breath, she placed her fingers on the front door and pushed it open very slowly and very carefully.

Something stopped it from opening fully. She squeezed through the gap and the first thing she saw was a pair of legs, the feet, in white socks, pressing against the inside of the door.

Her stomach dropped.

Stepping fully into the hallway, she saw that it was Frank. He was lying on his back at the foot of the stairs with his eyes closed, his beige jumper stained with a huge bloom of dark red blood. It looked like he had been shot in the chest as soon as he’d opened the front door. An acrid whiff of smoke hung in the air. The smell of a gunshot.

‘Oh my God, Frank,’ she whispered and rushed to kneel down by his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as she examined his injuries. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Blood was oozing from his chest, bright, sticky and wet. On closer inspection, it looked like he’d been shot twice. His diaphragm was moving and he was making an unnatural sucking noise as he tried to draw breath. She realised that the bullets must have gone through his lungs, but fortunately not his heart, otherwise he’d be dead. He was still alive, but only just, and he needed medical attention immediately. She needed to find a phone.

But what about Dale?

He was still in here. Somewhere. And he was armed and dangerous. She glanced around tensely. The narrow hallway stood quiet and empty, the kitchen lying silent at the far end. Directly in front, up the stairs, she could see the top of the landing, but nothing else beyond. From behind the living room door, to her left, came the sound of singing from the TV.

Where was Isabel? Was she in the living room? Was she dead?

Bailey swallowed nervously, her mouth dry. What should her next move be? To go into the living room or to venture upstairs?

She jumped as she felt something touch her arm. It was Frank’s hand, twitching weakly.

His eyes had flickered open, his eyelids fluttering softly. His watery blue eyes met hers with recognition.