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Disentangling myself, I climbed back on to my feet and helped Miss Fitzsimon do likewise. To her considerable credit, after the initial squeal of horror, she called out no more and I hoped we might have got away without attracting attention to ourselves. As she rubbed at elbows and shoulders and pulled her clothing back into place, I apologised profusely in a whisper of a voice, all the while looking up and down the hallway for any sign of our gaolers. Of those people I might have expected to open the cellar door, Elizabeth Fitzsimon was not among them.
“What are you doing?” I asked rather foolishly, embarrassed at what had happened, but also somewhat confused.
She looked at me as if I was some sort of fool, furrowing her brows, before replying in obvious exasperation, “Rescuing you, of course. What on earth did you think I might be doing?”
“Ah. Yes.” I might have blushed if my face was not already red with the tension and effort of my assault. “Silly question. Have you a plan?”
She shook her head. “Just to get you out of that cellar. Doctor Sneijder said you had been locked down there because you were out of your mind and a danger to all of his patients. We were to leave you well alone.”
So I had been right about Sneijder on that score.
“I’m most grateful you chose to ignore him,” I said. “I had begun to wonder if I should ever leave that cellar alive.”
“That was my thought, also. I couldn’t leave you down there, at Sneijder’s mercy. I believe the man is capable of the very worst crimes.”
I looked along the hallway again, anxious as to the whereabouts of Selkman in particular. “We should leave this place as soon as possible.”
She nodded her agreement. “Where will we go?”
I thought for a moment. “Did you see any other houses on your way here from the railway station?”
“None nearby. The last I recall was perhaps two miles away, near a fork in the road.”
A fork in the road? I wondered if it could be the same one where the farm labourer and I had been involved in our terrible accident.
I couldn’t help but notice my rescuer appeared commendably calm. There was no sign of alarm in her voice nor a look of panic on her face and I suspected that she was rather more composed than I was at that moment. I took a deep breath and tried my best to consider the matter as if I had all the time in the world, anxious not to rush into a hasty and, possibly, soon to be regretted decision.
“Then we shall aim for that fork in the road and see if we can locate the house you saw. It won’t be easy if the fog has persisted, but at least we know there is something there to be found.”
Again she nodded her agreement. I looked her up and down and realised there was a problem to be addressed before we could proceed. All she had on was her dress and an ordinary pair of shoes. It wouldn’t take long once we were outside the house for the cold and damp to start to bite into her flesh and bones.
“We need to find you a coat of some sort and, if we can, stouter footwear.”
“The cloakroom is up there,” she said, pointing at a door at the end of the hall, across from the surgery.
The risk was obvious. If Sneijder or Selkman should come out of the surgery while we were retrieving coats from the cloakroom, they would be upon us in a moment, certainly before we could effect an escape. But there was no doubt my accomplice was in need of warmer clothing.
“We must be quick about it,” I pointed out. “I’m no match for Selkman and if he should see us our chances of escape will be all but gone.”
“I understand.”
The look on her face was one of determination, which gave me a good degree of confidence there would be no dithering. It was time to get on with things, since every second we lingered put us further at risk.
“Good. Then let us not delay any longer.”
We turned as one and walked in silence along the hall. My nerves were once more on edge, but I was also determined. I had been given an opportunity I did not expect and was going to do my utmost to take it. Miss Fitzsimon had put her own safety at risk by choosing to help me and I didn’t like to think what retribution Sneijder might visit upon her should we fail in our attempt at escape.
The door to the cloakroom was unlocked. Once inside, we soon each found a coat of suitable size and warmth. Elizabeth was also fortunate enough to find a pair of hiking boots that were a tolerable fit. Once ready, we stood and looked each other in the eye, neither showing any sign of hesitation or loss of nerve, then we turned to make our exit and, we hoped, our escape.
I cautiously opened the cloakroom door just a little, anxious that we did not blindly tumble out into the arms of Selkman. My lips were dry and I ran the tip of my tongue over them as I listened for any sound of approaching footsteps. There was nothing to be heard, other than the ticking of the clock in the sitting room. It was almost unnervingly quiet.
“The back door?” I whispered the question to Elizabeth, for it had only occurred to me at that point that I did not know where the rear entrance to the house was located.
Elizabeth leaned in close and pointed down the hall to my left, past the sitting room and, beyond that, the dining room and kitchen. “The kitchen,” she prompted.
I eased the door open a little more, so that I could see through the crack between the door and the frame, along the hall to my left. It was clear. Filled with anxiety, I pushed the door fully open and stepped out ahead of Elizabeth, who pulled the door shut behind her. It would take us perhaps a single minute to reach the kitchen and the back door. One minute between us and our freedom. I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
At that precise moment, I heard the door to the surgery open. The timing could not possibly have been worse. Thirty seconds sooner and we would still have been in the cloakroom. Thirty seconds later and we would, in all likelihood, have been as far as the dining room and out of sight of anyone exiting the surgery.
Alarmed at the noise, I swung myself around. There, standing stock still, in the doorway to the surgery stood the figure of Sneijder. The startled look on his face made it clear that he was more than a little surprised to see me with Elizabeth coming out of the cloakroom. For the briefest of moments all was silent and static, each of us frozen into inaction by the unexpected turn of events. But that moment evaporated in the blink of an eye and a look of malevolence grew on Sneijder’s face.
“Well, what a surprise this is. It seems you have found yourself an accomplice, Templeman. Such a pity.” There was a satisfaction in his voice that was deeply disturbing, threatening even. “Selkman,” he barked. “Here. Now.”
Again, I had been caught without benefit of anything resembling a weapon. It seemed I was a slow fellow to learn an important lesson. Stepping quickly forward, so as to bring myself alongside Elizabeth, I brought myself up to my full height and raised my fists, ready to fight. My blood was up and I was keen on revenge for what had already happened and what, I felt sure, would follow if Elizabeth and I were not able to make good our escape.
A sickening laugh from Sneijder greeted my challenge before he spoke again. “I admire your persistence, Templeman, but you should know by now that the outcome is a foregone conclusion. You are no match for Selkman.”
He glanced to his right as the huge figure of Selkman joined us. There was no grin of pleasure on his face this time; rather a look of utter determination that disturbed me all the more. I hesitated and I’m afraid my eyes betrayed my concern, because in that moment Sneijder lunged at Elizabeth, grabbing her right forearm. She yelled in fright, but, to her credit, had no intention of giving up without a fight of her own. She brought down her right fist on Sneijder’s elbow with all the force she could muster and the startled Doctor swore as he let go his grip.
I would have leapt to her help, of course, but by now Selkman had stepped around his master and was closing in on me, his arms raised and his enormous hands closed into fists that looked like sledgehammers. I winced inside and brought my own fists up fully in front of my face in the hope of being able to land a solid blow to his nose, it being one of the most sensitive parts of the human body.
Another scream from my right caused me to take a swift glance sideways. Sneijder had thrown himself at Elizabeth a second time and now had her in a bear hug, lifting her bodily off the ground. She struggled like a devil and hurled insults that would have shocked a dock worker. Fear tore at my insides like some hideous disease and I might have collapsed but for my partner’s spirited resistance. If Elizabeth could only keep Sneijder occupied for a minute or two longer, then I might, somehow, be able to fashion a means of bringing down the giant before me. I could, perhaps, be David to his Goliath.
So as to get enough clear space to swing his fists at me, Selkman stepped across the hallway, putting himself between me and the others. But, seeing an opportunity, despite her predicament, Elizabeth planted a lusty kick into the small of Selkman’s back, pushing him towards the wall. I seized my chance at once, closing right up to him and crashed two pummelling blows of my own fully into his face. For a second or two, I felt exhilarated by my apparent success, but then my face screwed up in pain as my brain processed the impact of knuckle on jaw. I pulled my hands away, clenching my teeth while trying not to show my agony, which was joined by fear as I saw how little damage my punches had done.
Selkman regained his balance and purpose, that horrible, sickening smirk once more on his face. It seemed as if all my blows had done was to feed him with yet more enthusiasm for the fight. Elizabeth was still struggling, her shouts and oaths ringing in my ears, but there appeared little chance of her breaking free from Sneijder’s hold.
I managed to sway away from Selkman’s first punch, a straight right jab that would nonetheless have been enough to knock me out, of that I had no doubt, but the second, a short jabbing right, was on me almost before the first had missed and I was not quick enough with my movements to fully evade it. A glancing blow knocked me off balance and I stumbled backwards a step or two, in a state of some shock, I have to admit. But bleak though the situation looked, I couldn’t leave things there and determined at once to fight on, righting myself quickly and bringing my fists back up in front of my face, which was by now coated with sweat.
“Run, Alexander. Run.”
Elizabeth’s shouts took me by surprise. I saw her through the narrow gap between the wall and Selkman’s left shoulder. She was no longer struggling and hung like a doll in Sneijder’s grip, but there was a sharp look of determination in her fiery eyes, one that told me she had not given up all hope of rescue. The gap through which I glimpsed her disappeared, replaced by the bulk of my opponent, who steadied himself for his next assault. I wasn’t sure I could stand a further hit from the heavy artillery that were his fists; it seemed likely that even a second glancing blow might be enough to put me down. I readied myself for a final counter-attack, thinking I might stand a chance of getting in under his guard, seeing how I was so much the smaller man.
“Run, Alexander. Leave me and fetch help. It’s our only chance.”
Elizabeth’s words were insistent rather than desperate, leading me to conclude she had given the situation some thought as she struggled in vain to break free from Sneijder. There was some truth in what she said. My remaining there, to suffer seemingly inevitable defeat at the hands of the Doctor’s henchman, would do neither of us any good. On the other hand, if I could escape and bring back help, I would ensure her freedom.
Selkman was big and strong, that was not in doubt, but he appeared not to be as quick as I was. If I could make it out of the house and into the open countryside there seemed every chance of achieving my freedom. I certainly had little left to lose from making the effort.
“I will be back, you can be sure of that,” I yelled to Elizabeth, even as I began to turn.
Something brushed the back of my hair and I heard Selkman’s fist slam into the wall. It was a very near miss indeed. No longer hesitating, I burst into a sprint, working my legs for all they were worth as I raced for the sitting room. A commotion erupted behind me, but I forced myself to ignore it and focused on my goal. I flew through the sitting room and on into the dining room, pulling chairs to the floor behind me as I raced by them, in the hope they would delay my pursuer.
I paused only as I reached the door to the kitchen, when I looked sharply to my left to see how great was my lead. As I did so, Selkman, in attempting to leap one of the chairs that had been knocked to the ground, caught a foot and fell to the in such a violent crash that the building seemed to shudder. I smiled, happy at my fortune, took a deep breath and pushed open the door before me. Rushing across the small, uncluttered kitchen, I grabbed hold of the handle to the outside door and, for a moment, felt terrified that it might be locked. But the handle turned without resistance and, as I swung open the last obstacle to my containment, there was still no sign of Selkman. Thick, smothering fog greeted me like an old and welcome friend. I launched myself into it with sheer delight. My lungs filled with with cold air as I ran, causing them to burn at the sudden change in temperature, but I cared not a fig and rushed onwards. The fog had been the reason for my arrival at the house and for my remaining there so long, but now it seemed its part in events had changed and it was to be my saviour.
