‘Here we are…’
Grant Parsons pulled tight on the rope binding Marina to a chair. Her hands were still behind her back, still in the same restraints. Her arms and legs were now tied up too. And she was still gagged.
‘I thought of putting the blindfold back on,’ he said. ‘But then I thought, no. Let her see what’s happening. Hate you to miss the fun.’
After smashing her phone and gagging her, he had pulled her up the stairs with him, Maddy screaming as she was left behind. He dragged her along what seemed like endless corridors until they had emerged in what at first she took for a living room. She soon realised it wasn’t real. With its pink walls and matching furniture, it seemed more like a stage or film set, like a doll’s house room made human size.
Parsons dragged her over to an armchair by a dining table set for dinner, tied her to it. Then he left the room, came back with armfuls of files and papers. She noticed that the research material he had taken from Gwilym was amongst them. Gwilym’s laptop, now smashed into uselessness, was also there. He piled everything up on the table, then pulled the chair she was tied to into the centre of the room, positioning it so that she faced the door.
She heard sounds going on, liquid, wet sounds. She tried to turn her head to see what was happening, but her restraints wouldn’t allow it. She smelled something. The air took on a chemical tang.
‘Hubby’s on his way,’ he said from behind her. ‘My dad called to let me know. From the police station. Called me instead of a solicitor. Maybe he’s not so bad after all. So, with that in mind, I’ve had to take precautions. You see that door? There. Ahead of you. That’s the way your hubby’s going to enter. The only way in. And the first thing he’ll see will be you.’
She heard something being thrown to the ground. It clanged emptily. Parsons walked round until he stood in front of her, looking at her. He wiped his hands on his jeans. Knelt down so his face was at her eye level.
‘No,’ he said, ‘that’s not true. The first thing he’ll see will be the fire, over there.’ He gestured behind her. ‘All the files about this place, about me, about everything I’ve done, they’re all there on that table. And they’re all going up in smoke. He’ll look at that first. And then he’ll see you. And he’ll not be able to move. He’ll stand there staring, struck immobile by indecision. Because he knows he’ll only be able to save one thing. You, or the evidence. And it might be too late for the evidence.’ He laughed. ‘Might even be too late for you by then.’
Marina closed her eyes. Unable to move, to speak, all she could do was think. She tried to will herself away, be anywhere but here. Phil was on his way. He had to be. If he wasn’t and Parsons was lying…
No. She couldn’t think about that. He had to be. He had to be.
What if he didn’t know where she was? What if he couldn’t find her? What if…
She kept her eyes tightly closed. But it didn’t work. The tears still ran down her face.
‘Crying?’ Parsons laughed. ‘That’s nothing. Wait till the smoke starts. You’ll be crying plenty by then. But at least you’ll have done your job. You’ll have stopped them getting further. Stopped them reaching me.’
He walked to the door, turned, looked at her. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he said. ‘I’m sure I should have a speech prepared, but really, I just want to get out of here and away. Bye.’
He slammed the door shut.
She heard the fire before she saw it or smelled it. Crackling, like white noise eating up everything in its path. She tried to scream, but the gag wouldn’t let her. She pulled at the restraints but they were too tight.
She sat back, trying not to give in to panic. Trying desperately to find a way out.
There wasn’t one.
No, she thought. It can’t end here. It can’t…