A thud and a bang.
I freeze, my hand still in their cutlery drawer. I strain my ears, every nerve ending on high alert.What the fuck was that?
The noise came from above.
I stay where I am, too scared to move. I can hear the hum of the fridge, the creak of the pipes.
And then I hear it again. A loud crash. Like something’s been knocked over.
Someone’s upstairs.
27
NATALIE
She’s a prisoner.
She’s trying not to eat or drink anything that the nurse gives her, suspecting now that it’s laced with drugs. Instead she uses the tap water from the little en suite bathroom. She can survive without food for a couple of days. She’s never been a particularly big eater anyway. The nurse has helped her walk over to the tiny en-suite on a few occasions. At others she’s managed to stumble and crawl. She’s never even had the energy to scream at the nurse, or demand to know what’s going on and why she’s being held a prisoner.
Snippets from that day in the park have filtered through her drug-addled mind, like sunshine through cloud. There had been footsteps behind her. A car in front. A woman had got out of the passenger side and, at the same time, she’d felt a hand reach from behind her and cover her face with a cloth. Everything had gone black after that and the next thing she knew she was here, in this room.
Was this nurse the same woman who’d stepped out of the car?
Now that she’s less woozy the memories are coming back to her.
She’d been in hiding for years. That’s right. She remembers now. She talked to her brother occasionally to let him know she was safe but never where she was. She’d tried to keep her nose clean but somewhere along the way she’d fallen in with the wrong sort of people in an effort to make a quick buck. The temptation to rip them off had been too great and now here she was, living with the consequences.
Because all this, she now realizes, is linked to that gang.
Drug-dealing. That was always her weakness.
She’d received a phone call. When was that? Sunday? Monday? Someone from the gang had called her. They knew her real name. She’d been packing, fleeing her flat. This woman must be working for them. Is she keeping her here, drugged up, until someone from the gang arrives? And then what? What are they planning to do with her?
Yesterday afternoon the nurse had started asking her questions. She couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying, and the nurse had given up. Now she wonders if they want information to pass on to the gang.
Natalie had hardly slept last night. She’d flushed her food down the toilet to make it look like she’d eaten it and, as she’d suspected, she’d felt more awake, more alert as a result. The drugs are still in her system, and she feels weaker than usual, but if she pretends to be sedated she can try to overpower the nurse, taking her by surprise. She plans to do it at night. The nurse might be taller than her, but Natalie is younger. And Natalie is desperate.
When the nurse came this morning Natalie pretended to be asleep. Then, after the nurse left, she flushed thecornflakes down the loo. She’d felt strong enough to walk to the en-suite, her legs less jelly-like, her mind sharper. If only she had some kind of weapon.
She casts about for something she could use, her eyes landing on the plastic cereal bowl, spoon and beaker on the trolley. She can’t really do much damage with any of that. She just hopes the element of surprise is enough.
Natalie doesn’t like to think of herself as a victim. She’s always been in charge of her own destiny. And, yes, she’s made mistakes. Big, life-changing ones. But she’s never been given to reflecting nostalgically or regretfully on the past. It’s the here and now that matters. Here and now, she’s fired up. She won’t let this sick individual hurt her or hand her over to the gang she ripped off. She’ll do what she can to escape.
She’s hit by a sudden bout of wooziness and stumbles back into the trolley, causing it to topple over with a crash. She freezes. Did the nurse hear? Natalie makes her way to the door and tries the handle. It’s locked.
She slumps to the floor, exhausted. She needs to be patient. If she makes a move too soon she’ll blow her cover.
Just as she’s getting up she hears a noise outside the door. Is it her imagination or was someone calling a tentative ‘Hello?’ Footsteps on the landing. A cough. And she shrinks back when she sees the door handle jiggling.
Someone is outside. Maybe a suspicious neighbour. Her heart soars with a joy she hasn’t felt in years.
This is it.
She’s finally being rescued.
28
LENA
