14

Mel lay quite still in her make-shift bed listening for other sounds of life in the great house. Silence. Below ground, its stillness seemed to have such intensity that it filled the room like an all enveloping shroud. The faint whooshing sound in her ears was her own circulation! She could not hear Silas’s breathing, but her own seemed to resemble bellows in the stillness of the night.

“Are you still awake?” the deep voice startled her.

“Yes. I can’t sleep.” Mel replied promptly.

“Well, tell me what you know about Clive Roberts?” the question surprised and slightly concerned Mel.

“No more than he’s told you. Why?”

“It’s just that I’m not sure I completely trust the man. I think we should be very careful, that’s all.”

The statement catapulted Mel into a sitting position. “That’s outrageous! He’s as scared as we are. How can you say such a thing, especially after all he’s been through?” Mel felt numb. Where did this come from all of a sudden? This man’s losing it, big time! She was appalled at his implication.

“What was he like when he first arrived? You were dragged out of your hospital by a chain round your neck; I was accosted at knifepoint, but what about Clive? He doesn’t seem to have even resisted.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Mel spat back. “Just because he didn’t put up a struggle, doesn’t mean he came here willingly. He’s worried sick about his family.” Mel flew to the anaesthetist’s defence.

“What was he like when he arrived then?” Silas persisted.

Mel sat with her knees raised, still cuddling the blankets around her. “Actually, he was here first,” she replied lamely.

“Exactly. I’m not saying that this is a put-up job or that they haven’t got some sort of hold over him, his family perhaps, but why is it that he is always being taken out of here? I just get the feeling that they know more about him than either of us. They even knew his name, didn’t they? I didn’t tell them and I doubt very much that you did either.”

“That’s crazy,” Mel protested indignantly. “Twice he’s been punched by them, trying to support us. He would hardly put himself in danger deliberately and I don’t believe the beatings he’s had were just for show! Anyway, they knew you were a surgeon when they took you.”

“Alright, alright. I may be wrong, but I just think we should be careful, that’s all. Things just may not be as cut and dried as they seem.”

Mel lay back down, shocked and disappointed. At last after a difficult start, they had been beginning to plan and work as a team. Teamwork would be essential if they were to get out alive. Mel had realised, during the time she had spent alone in the cellar earlier, how much she depended upon the intelligence and strength of her two cellmates. Now, the fragile cohesion of the group suddenly felt as though it were falling apart yet again, with uncertainty and suspicion likely to destroy their trust in each other. Mel despaired, the suspicions of both men again likely to endanger their safety.

“You just can’t believe that he’s one of them. No-one would put themselves through this ordeal when they didn’t need to. I really don’t know how you can even think such a thing,” she concluded sourly.

Silas fell silent. His concerns had clearly fallen upon deaf ears, but he decided against pursuing the subject further. He felt sure, however, that enough had been said to plant the seed of doubt in Mel’s mind. His disquiet would gnaw away at the nurse’s conscience, sufficiently to ensure close observation of Clive’s future behaviour.

Mel closed her eyes tightly. What could possibly have prompted such an inference? The arrogance and audacity of the man! How she could have felt sorry for the man she couldn’t imagine now. How she despised him. She ran her mind back over the events of the last two days. At no time had she perceived Clive to be anything but a gentle and kind man, struggling, like them, to cope with the abominable conditions of their prison. He had bravely endured the dangers and unprincipled actions of coercion to steal from a hospital. Her own experience had taught her that such immoral exploits were not for those of the so-called ‘caring profession.’

The remainder of the night passed slowly. Time that Mel felt disinclined to spend in further conversation with Silas. To avoid further interaction with him she lay on her side, her back towards him.

When Clive was eventually returned to the cellar at 3am he looked calm and relaxed again. He brought with him a large full flask of coffee. In the warmth of the room upstairs, he claimed to have cat-napped in the chair beside their patient, whose condition had now improved sufficiently for him to be left in the care of the young son, Danny. Despite his claim to having slept, however, Clive still looked tired. Telltale bloodshot eyes betrayed weariness in his demeanour that reinforced to Mel that the doctor was as much a victim as his colleagues. They both gratefully accepted the coffee, despite the hour. Hands cupped round the plastic cups, the hot sweet liquid once again relieved the parched throats dried by the thick gritty air.

Kicking off his shoes, Clive sank heavily onto his mattress between Mel and Silas, oblivious to an atmosphere of tension between his companions and blissfully unaware that he had been the focus. The lack of vocal interaction he surmised was due purely to the broken night’s sleep. Clumsily he rearranged his blankets and, determined to gain another couple of hour’s respite, curled on his side, shivering despite his thick jumper.

It seemed only a short while later when the man in green corduroy trousers delivered breakfast, intimating a sense of urgency by the way he prompted the inmates to leave their crude beds with a swift kick at the base of each mattress in turn. Obediently, Mel and Clive co-operated, retrieving their shoes before crossing to the table. Reluctant to discard his blankets, the surgeon defied his prompts to “get moving” and sluggishly stretched and yawned before painstakingly rising from his bed. The only one to need to regain his trousers, he shook them and carefully brushed them with long strokes of his hand before finally stepping into the garment and pushing his feet into his black leather brogues. He strolled slowly and deliberately towards the table, his chin pushed forwards defiantly. Mel inwardly cringed as the surgeon went as near as he dare, taunting the captor with his act of recalcitrance. Such a performance was only ever likely to trigger another ugly scene.

“I’d like to go upstairs to see the patient.” Clive distracted the attention of the guard. Silas shot Mel a meaningful glance.

“He’s okay. Have something to eat first. We’re moving him out this morning. You’ll all be joining him, so get on with it and do as you’re told.” He directed his oration towards Silas, who wilfully avoided exposing any interest to the news. While the three half-heartedly shared out the meagre offerings of breakfast, Hood and Mat entered the cellar and removed one of the mattresses from the floor, carrying it out and up the stairs. Could this really be the last time they would have to endure incarceration in this pit? A strange mixture of emotions flashed across Mel’s mind. Relief, fear, excitement, hope, dread. The confusion of thoughts whirled in her head, dismissing her hunger and transforming the rolls and butter to unappetising cardboard. The purpose of their abduction was about to be played out.

Mel looked across the table at Silas. Deep furrows creased his forehead, his thick black eyebrows almost meeting in the middle. He appeared remarkably self-controlled, taking responsibility for pouring the three cups of tea from the flask. Clive, meanwhile, sat mesmerized by the activity of the guards who struggled out with the mattress, locking the door once more behind them. Like Mel, he too was finding it difficult to eat. The earlier self-assured confidence had drained away almost as quickly as it had arrived. Nervously, he ground one fist inside the other, until Silas firmly planted a plastic cup and meagre breakfast in front of him. They were all aware that the new day looked likely to decide their precarious future.

Mel stood up from the table and stretched. Noticing that the camel coat which, rolled up like a sausage had acted as a pillow for the three of them, was now draped onto the dirty floor, she crossed the cellar to gather up the garment.

Without warning, the lights of the cellar were extinguished. Mel gave out an involuntary squeal as total blackness enveloped her. Not one shaft of light entered the underground prison. Turning back towards where she thought the table was positioned, she could not make out even the faintest outline of the two men. In that moment she was completely disorientated, the intensity of the darkness seeming to touch and stifle her.

“Silas, Clive, where are you? I can’t see you!” she yelled.

“Stand still!” snapped Silas. “No doubt the light will come back on in a minute. Just stand still and wait; there’s no need to panic.”

Mel did as she was told, afraid to move, but the darkness brought with it the claustrophobic memories of the car boot together with the added fears of rats, spiders and of being left alone in this hell. “Help me, please. I can’t see a thing,” she pleaded, almost in tears.

“I’ll tap the table like this,” said Clive calmly. “Very slowly walk towards the noise.”

Tentatively, an inch at a time, Mel shuffled towards Clive’s tapping until her fingers once again felt the solid surface of the table top. “Thanks,” she breathed. “I’m okay now.”

“And how do you think we’re going to get out of this hell-hole if you’re afraid of the dark?” sneered Silas.

Mel could not answer.

For many minutes they waited in complete darkness and listened to the absolute silence. Had they all gone? Had Clive died and the gang deserted the building, leaving the three of them to rot in the bowels of the building? Mel shivered in the damp chilly air and wondered whether Clive would object if she edged her way round the table to his side and held on to him. Despite the passage of time, their eyes failed to adjust to the total darkness, offering no points of reference on which to focus.

“Right then, let’s get out of here.” Silas was the first to take control of the situation. “We’ll hold on to each other and make our way over to where the steps are and the door. Somehow we’ll break the door down or take it off its hinges.”

“I’ve taken a good look at the door,” said Mel. “We’ll never get out of here. There are huge hinges with rivets and .....”

“Going to stand here until you die then?” sneered Silas.

In a shuffling chain-gang they moved slowly towards the place where they believed the steps to be with Silas leading the way. He cursed as he groped at the steps up to the doorway, unable to resist brushing dirt from his hands.

Suddenly, as abruptly as the light had been switched off, it was once again restored to their meagre accommodation. They blinked in the light and quickly withdrew from the steps, anticipating the imminent arrival of their captors.