THIRTY-THREE

Sofie put down her fork in order to read a text message that had just come through. Her mum had been in a filthy mood ever since they’d got home. Supper was late, and she’d bitched non-stop. She obviously didn’t want Tom there and was making her feelings clear.

‘Everything had better be back to normal tomorrow,’ her mum said. Her tone was low and angry. ‘I’ve got better things to do than sit at home with Sofie all day.’

‘I’ll stay with her,’ said Tom. ‘Or she could come to the police station with me. She’ll be as safe as houses there.’

‘Like that makes everything better. I can’t believe this is happening.’ Her mum flung up her hands. ‘I knew it was a mistake contacting you. If it hadn’t been for Sofie falling ill . . .’

Tom pushed away his plate. ‘I’m sorry I’m making life difficult for you. But Sofie’s safety is my priority and—’

‘You’re nothing but trouble.’

Tom had insisted on staying overnight in case that guy showed up again. The guy who’d watched her take delivery of Jay’s package that day. She’d spotted him after school, hanging around, and when she’d told Tom, he’d freaked and pulled her out of school. For protection against a possible threat. Which was brilliant – her classmates were agog. Her email had been flooded, and she hadn’t had a single nasty text from anyone. Just messages dying to know what was happening, if she was OK. No one had mentioned her weight.

She hoped Jay was all right. When she’d asked, Tom had gone tight-lipped and anxious. Not that he meant her to know he was worried, but she could tell. She couldn’t believe she’d been so horrible to Jay. And she couldn’t believe she’d wanted her mum and Tom to get married. Having seen them together this evening, she knew it would never work.

She wondered if Jay and Tom would take her to Disneyland. Even Disneyland Paris would be awesome . . . She clicked view message on her phone to see the text was from Jaz, asking if she was OK. Grinning, she began to text back.

‘Sofie!’

Her mum was glaring.

‘I’ve told you before not to text at the table.’

‘OK, OK.’ She pushed her phone aside.

‘Pass it over.’ Her mum held out her hand.

Sofie quickly grabbed the phone and shoved it into her Ugg boot.

‘It’s gone, OK?’ She held up both hands.

‘And what about the lessons she’ll miss?’ Her mum rounded on Tom. She was off again. ‘How is she supposed to catch up on such basic learning? Education is all about building a strong foundation . . .’

Sofie rolled her eyes. Anyone would think World War Three had broken out the way she was carrying on. Fed up with listening to her mum’s diatribe, Sofie pushed away her plate and said, ‘Please, may I leave the table?’

‘Not until you finish your vegetables.’

Sofie knew better than to argue and shovelled down the peas and carrots as fast as she could. ‘Finished,’ she announced and bounded to her feet. She felt her phone vibrate against her ankle as another text came in, but she didn’t risk bringing out her phone. Thank God she’d put it on Silent. She didn’t trust her mum not to confiscate it.

‘Put your plate in the dishwasher . . .’

Sofie obediently went to the kitchen and shoved her cutlery and plate into the machine. She was about to head for the peace of her room when she heard a scratching sound outside.

Smokey the cat, wanting to come in.

Sofie went to the back door and undid the latch, opened it, but the cat was nowhere to be seen.

‘Smokey!’ she called.

Tom had warned her not to go outside, so she hesitated on the doorstep. At the far end of the yard, she saw a slinky black shape emerge and then sit watching her, tail flicking.

‘Come on, Smokey . . .’

The cat didn’t move.

Sophie looked around. Everything was quiet. No tawny owls calling to one another. No foxes barking. There wasn’t a breath of wind.

Wanting his furry company with her in her bedroom, Sofie began to walk to collect the cat. Her phone rubbed against her ankle, and as she bent down to retrieve it, she heard footsteps rushing towards her.

Startled, she looked around, but it was too late.

The man was upon her before she could move.

One hand went over her mouth. An arm clamped around her ribs.

He heaved her into the air.

She screamed, but the sound was muffled. Legs kicking, she tried to wriggle free, but he held her in an iron grip. He began to jog across the yard.

Panic set in, and she put all her effort into freeing herself. His grip intensified.

Mummy! Tom!

He rounded the stables and increased his pace. Sofie continued to scream, but no sound escaped. She tried to bite his hand, but couldn’t get a grip. He was running down the drive, Sofie bouncing against his hip. He was panting.

A sob ripped through her chest.

Help me, help me!

The man raced through the gates. Ran for a car parked up the road. As they approached, the engine started. A pair of headlights were switched on. A woman slipped from the driver’s seat and jogged towards them.

No! Please, no!

It was the same woman who’d delivered Jay’s envelope.

The instant the woman neared, the man took away his hand from Sofie’s mouth, but before she could take a breath to scream, the woman rammed a cloth over her mouth and nose. Sofie sucked in some air, but it tasted funny, sickeningly sweet . . .

Then she didn’t know any more.