DESPITE HIS WEAK, ACHING BODY Jordan forces himself to a sitting position and listens as footsteps move with a purpose across the ceiling. Back and forth, back and forth. He trembles and wonders if it’s the man. It has to be, but perhaps, just perhaps, it’s someone else. Someone good, someone kind.
He tries to call out but his voice is little more than a croak.
He hears music. Classical music. He recalls Ben said something to him in his dream, but his thoughts are jumbled as he tries to remember.
He can’t think what it was.
Moments pass, he isn’t sure how long. It could have been five minutes or an hour. Or a day.
The music is still playing and he can hear faint voices. A man’s voice. A woman’s too.
‘Mum? No, she’s . . .’ He can’t bring himself to say it.
He feels his heart racing. Perhaps if he stands and climbs up the steps a little bit he’ll be closer to the door and they will hear him. He tries to pull himself up but his grip is too weak and he falls to knees. The iron band around his wrist clangs and echoes on the steel bannister. It’s then that remembers what Ben told him.
‘If you can’t shout then make a noise! Any noise, just make it loud!’
Jordan lifts his arm and begins to clang the iron band on the bannister. It stings his wrist and he feels the blisters opening again, but he doesn’t care.
He clangs over and over again until he fires up inside and doesn’t stop.