As we are driving, we go over a large bump in the road, maybe a stray log or tree, and I feel the van tilt and rumble as they try to carry on driving. The tyre has blown. The men in the van start to argue. They stop the van and get out, opening the side door. I play possum and pretend to be unconscious as they start working on the tyre.

I can hear them arguing at the front of the van. It’s the front tyre. The back doors are ajar – it’s almost as if they have forgotten what is in the back of the van. I jostle Simon until he wakes. He is punch-drunk, but he understands when I tell him we have a chance to go.

We get out of the van and run, the sound of the men’s angry voices fading behind us. I vaguely recognise these roads: we are in Exeter. Maybe if we slip through the brush and walk along the river we can get to the quay and call for help.

It’s dark and the temperature has dropped. I feel cold and dizzy. I don’t know where we are anymore and Simon is barely moving behind me. I hear him fall in the water and I stop. He is too heavy for me to lift. I pull and pull but he doesn’t move. I try to wake him, but he is gone. I don’t have time to mourn and so I keep limping ahead, convinced that I can hear the men hot on my trail.

After what feels like forever labouring through the thickets along the bank on my own, I grow weaker without even noticing, the adrenaline wearing off and the pain kicking in. I am struggling but determined. I can see lights and try to get up a bank to get to the houses nearby and call for help.

I hear a car on the road and become convinced it’s my father’s men, come back to finish me. I crouch down as low as I can go to hide behind some bushes. I see the roof of the van as they stop and look around. I hear them calling out my name playfully as though we are playing a game of hide-and-seek.

I huddle to keep warm and rest my head against the bank, the fog in my mind taking me over. I feel powerless to stop myself from passing out as the last drops of energy leave my body.

Chapter Eighty-Two

The ambulance took Catherine Corrigan to the hospital under police supervision. She was under arrest and would give a complete statement when she got back to the station, but Imogen could see a difference in the woman already. She looked happier – not happy by any stretch of the imagination, but there was an easiness to her that Imogen hadn’t seen before.