‘Hey! Anybody home?’
It was Harlan’s voice, loud, drifting up from the hallway of the gatehouse.
‘Not much of a welcome, if you don’t mind my saying,’ he said, and there was a snicker of laughter.
Belle and Jill stared at each other in the half-light.
Quiet, mouthed Jill.
Belle nodded. She was bent double, sitting on her haunches. There was a fluttering murmur of leathery little wings above her head, like the dry rustling of autumn leaves or bees fanning a hive to keep it cool. She could hear the men making their way through the house, going into the sitting room, then the kitchen. Noises down there, like they were turning things over, breaking things.
Oh fuck.
But hadn’t they all, deep down, been frightened of this, prepared for something like this, since Charlie’s death? They had all been living on a knife-edge. Pretending all was well. Knowing it wasn’t. And now, here it was at last. Harlan’s reckoning.
Was Dad coming?
No. Belle had seen the answer to that in her mother’s pale, terrified face. They were on their own here. And now she could hear a heavy tread on the stairs.
The men were coming up.
Belle shrank back further, into the shadows. Held her breath. Felt sweat dripping into her eyes, smelled the odour of extreme stress oozing from her pores.
Got to hold on. Mustn’t panic.
‘They must have gone out,’ said Nipper’s harsh voice, so close by that Belle nearly shrieked.
There was a pause, then Harlan said: ‘Or Terry warned them. Somehow.’
‘Nah, Ludo dealt with him.’
It sounded like they were standing right by the bed, in the centre of the room. Two, maybe three of them.
Dealt with him? Oh Christ.
Belle flinched as a crash came, sounding as if it was right by her head. The bats stirred restlessly. The men were tipping over the bedside tables. She heard drawers opening. Then slamming shut. They were at the dressing table. There was a curse, then a huge crash as they overturned it. Peering around the chimney, Belle saw Jill in the faint light flinch back, away from the door. Someone rattled the door, pulling at the handle. The bolt held.
Then all at once the men were gone, out of the room, going along the landing to the other bedrooms and bathrooms. More crashes. She saw Jill’s hand go to her mouth. Quiet, Belle. Hold on.
More crashes.
It was a nightmare and Belle prayed for it to be over. Wouldn’t they go soon, be satisfied the place was empty?
They had to go.
She felt something skitter over the flesh of her forearm and jammed a fist in her mouth to stop a scream.
It felt like they had been in here for hours, but it was minutes. And now . . . oh Jesus, the men were coming back. They were back in the master bedroom . . . no! They weren’t. They were passing the bedroom door, they were going down the stairs.
They were going.
It would be all right. Once they were gone, she and Mum would get in the car and drive, find Dad, all would be OK.
But Nipper said Ludo had dealt with Terry.
She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on that now. If she did, she’d panic and give them away.
Then she stiffened. Shit! No!
They were coming back up the stairs.
Into the master bedroom.
There was the sound of movement near the cupboard door. Belle saw the door shudder and then something slid into the gap between the door and the jamb.
A crowbar.
There was a wrenching thud and the bolt pinged off like a pistol shot. The door shuddered open. Harsh light from the master bedroom flooded in on Jill. She let out a scream that pierced Belle’s soul. Then they dragged Jill out of the hiding place.