“Can you tell me how you escaped?”
“I was in a van,” Sophie began, her voice steadier now. “It was white. Small. Smelly. He was moving me somewhere else. But he left to get something.”
“Is that when you escaped?”
Sophie nodded. “Yeah. He didn’t close the door properly. I pushed it open and ran away. I was in my bare feet, but I just kept running. Down past the school. Through the car park. To the cathedral. Mummy said that if I was lost, to go to a public place. But everywhere was closed, so I hid in the doorway.”
“Clever girl.” Elea was grateful that she’d had somewhere to run to. If only Liisa had been able to do the same thing.
“I want to go home now. I’m tired.”
“OK,” Elea said. She couldn’t make Sophie stay. More would come, piece-by-piece, when she was well enough to give it. A thought occurred. “The shoes. I was wondering why you gave them to me.”
“He wore Velcro shoes. It was weird, cos he was a man.”
“I think she’s had enough,” Fiona said.
“Please. One more question,” she pleaded with Fiona, who responded with a sigh. At least it wasn’t a no.
Elea returned her attention to Sophie, who covered her mouth as she yawned. “We’re going to look for that man, and the place where you were kept.” She paused. Just one more small push. She weighed up her words. “Do you remember where it is? You said he carried you into the house. If we take you in the police car, can you show us where that is?”
Sophie looked from her mother to Elea. “He won’t see me, right? Because he said...” She bit her bottom lip. “He said he’d come get me if I told.”
“Nobody’s coming to get you,” Elea reassured the girl. “The police: It’s like a gang. The biggest gang in England. And everyone in this gang is there to keep you safe. He’s just one person. We,” she circled a finger around the room, “all of us, we outnumber him. We’ll use a car with tinted windows. You can see out, but nobody can see in. Is that OK with you?”
The silence was agonising, but Elea allowed it to lay claim.
Chapter 39
Liisa
My breath leaves my mouth in tiny clouds and the cold creeps deep into my bones. I’ve lost all track of time. I don’t know how long I’ve been in the forest. There is less snow in the sheltered spaces, but the sun doesn’t reach them, and the air feels colder here. The ground glistens like a carpet of ice. Twigs become fragile shards and snap beneath my oversized boots. The sun has dipped, and Johanna’s words return to my mind. I won’t survive out here on my own. My body shudders with the cold. Teeth chattering, I stare up at the pine trees that make me feel oh-so-small. The wind stirs, carrying an earthy smell as it shifts the fine powdery snow. In the distance the ravens call as they settle down and I wonder how they can stand the cold. I put one foot in front of the other. I’ve been walking for so long. The trees seem to merge. I cannot find a way out. I cry. I run until I can barely feel my feet. My heart thumps a-lub-dub in my chest at the sound of an engine in the distance. A car, maybe?
“Mama!” I cry miserably. But she is not here.
I don’t hear Johanna creep up behind me until it is too late. Her cold hand clamps hard over my mouth and nose. I kick, I lash out, the stink of Johanna’s glove making me gag. Fish and smoke. Then I feel the fiery sting of the home-made stun gun as it hits me in the base of my spine.
I awake with a start, groping in the blackness. I can’t...I can’t see. My tongue is swollen. I taste blood in my mouth. Hands shaking, I touch my face. My lashes tickle my fingers as I open and close my eyes. Have I gone blind? I stare around me, looking for something to latch onto. Then I see it. A silver thread of light far above my head. I try to stand, but a mattress wobbles beneath me. I reach beyond it. It’s on the ground, not a bed frame. My legs are weak and everything hurts. Where am I? Warm tears trickle down my face as I remember what happened. The forest: Johanna. I pat down my body. No cuts. No blood—I think. But I’m so sore. My toes are pins and needles freezing. There are thick, loose tights on my legs and I pull them up. My hand brushes against the rough material of another of Johanna’s home-made dresses. There’s a rip in the hem. She has changed my clothes.
Heavy blankets layer the thin foam mattress. I spread out my fingers and find something small and metal. There’s a grid. I flick a switch on the side and two orange bars of light beam in the darkness. Heat. It’s a heater. I pull it to me, being careful not to burn my fingers, and drag the blankets over my shoulders. She wasn’t being kind. I was freezing in the forest. Cold can kill. I whimper as I try to see through the darkness. The glow from the heater is dim. There’s a lead: The electric cable is plugged into an extension lead, which stretches...I stare, blinking as I wait for my eyes to adjust. It snakes up the wall, then disappears through the roof of this place.
I want my mum. Because I know where I am. I’m in the hole. I push my face into the damp blanket, because I can’t let Johanna hear me cry. I don’t want it getting any worse than this. I feel something move in my hair, so light that it’s barely there. I can’t keep in my scream as I grasp something with legs and fling it away from me. I don’t want to know what it is.
“Please!” I call, getting to my feet and feeling my way around. I touch a cold wooden structure as I walk outside the glow of the heater. My fingers run carefully over splintered timber. Firm wooden posts are holding this space up. The walls feel like hardened dirt. What else is down here, besides me? I feel like I’m being watched. I remember Johanna’s comment about the big hairy spiders that live in the hole. I stare up at the roof. “I’m sorry!” I cry. “Please, let me out! I’m so sorry!” My breath is coming faster. I can’t control it. I’m buried underground. I can’t reach the light above my head. This place is taller than my mother. Six, maybe seven feet high? “Please, Mama Johanna!” I beg, hoping that by calling her she will feel sorry for me. I swipe at my hair, brush imaginary spiders from my body. It feels as if an army of insects is closing in on me. I can’t stop screaming. My whole body is shaking now.
Time passes and I run out of screams. My throat is scratchy and raw. I think of the last time I saw Mikael. Is he even alive? What if they have left me down here to die? What if this really is my burial place? I think of Mama finding me, far too late. My body nothing but bones, somewhere the spiders have made a home. The cries that leave my mouth sound like the animals in the woods.
There is noise. Footsteps on the wooden floor above. I try to stop, but my breath is jerky as my sobs rise up my throat. There is dirt under my fingernails. My tears are salty as they reach my mouth. There’s a sudden burst of light. I recognise the outline of Mikael’s face. His left eye is puffy and there’s a bruise rising on his face. “Please, let me out,” I whisper as he gestures at me to be quiet. “I’m sorry,” I add, and I mean it, because as much as I hate it here, I don’t want to hurt anyone. He throws down a bag. It lands with a soft plop on my blanket beneath. I don’t stop to look at it, because there is something else in his hand.
“Take it,” he says.
“But...”
“Take it.”
I reach up, squinting. He drops it into my hand. He checks over his shoulder. Johanna doesn’t know about this. I accept the secret gift. I peer in the dim light, my spirits lifting as I recognise its shape. My small wooden doll, the one Grandmother gave me. It was in the pocket of the jacket that Johanna took away. I hold it close to my chest. My last link to home.
“Hide it,” he whispers, before pulling the trapdoor shut.
