Hadn’t it been down when he’d come up here earlier? The lightning must have tripped it, which would explain the darkness, he thought, as he continued climbing, giddily, round and round. At last, breathless, his lungs feeling like they were on fire, he reached the tiny landing at the top. The closed oak door of their room was in front of him.

He tried the handle, but it was locked. He pounded on the door, yelling, ‘Cleo? Cleo?’

‘Roy?’ The voice from the other side sounded scared. Really scared.

‘Can you open the door, darling?’ he shouted.

‘We’re locked in,’ she called back.

‘Who’s with you?’

‘Bruno, Noah and Kaitlynn.’ She sounded calm, despite the fear in her voice.

He tried again, frantically, to open the door, kicking hard at the lock, a door’s weak point, with all his strength. But it did not budge. Without the key it was going to need a bosher or a sledge-hammer. All the same, he kicked again, with no success, desperately wishing he had heavy boots on, instead of his trainers.

‘Roy!’ Cleo called, louder now. ‘Don’t worry about us, get away! Run! Get the police!’

Jesus. ‘What the hell’s happening?’ he shouted.

‘Roy, darling, get out of here, get away, it’s you they want!’

‘What do you mean?’ he shouted back.

‘They’re crazy, Roy, be careful, be careful. It’s you they want.’

‘Me? What do you mean, Cleo? What do they want from me? Who do you mean?’

What madhouse had they come to?

‘I don’t know; I don’t know who the hell they are. They’re crazy.’

He heard Noah crying.

Was this a bad dream?

If only.

What the hell to do? Somehow get out of here and go for help. His brain raced, spinning, trying to get a grip. Thinking fast. There were windows downstairs and patio doors leading out to a terrace at the rear. If he went down, he would be invisible in the darkness. Make a dash for the patio doors, smash through them and run?

Run how far? He tried to remember the last town they had driven through – it must have been a good ten miles or more away. If he could get to the road, perhaps he could flag down a passing car? Even though he’d only seen one vehicle in the half-hour or so he’d been there before, there must be others using that road. Perhaps holidaymakers like themselves? It seemed at this moment to be his best shot.

Just 9 per cent left on his phone battery.

‘I’ll be back as quickly as I can, darling!’ he shouted.

‘Please be careful! Just get away from here!’ she urged. ‘You must get away!’

‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back with help.’