Barry stares at me, looking me over with big eyes.
“Of course,” the bank manager says with a smile. “Come through. Tea? Coffee?”
“I’d love a tea,” I say.
We’re led through to a small room with a large mahogany desk between leather armchairs. My feet feel heavy as they trudge over the carpet and my face is hot. As I look at the two men beside me, I wonder what it is I’m doing here. I sit down and take a breath, but my vision is fuzzy at the edges. I pull at my wrists, but they’re no longer tied. I’m glad I’m not in that cellar anymore.
The thought suddenly fractures through my mind.
Why was I in a cellar? I remember the cold, seeping through me. When was that?
Magnus removes his jacket and places it on the back of a chair before sitting. “The thing is, Barry, before Dad’s funeral, Mum and I were talking about moving some money around. For the business. It’s purely for tax purposes and investments.” He smiles and pats me on the hand. “Then after the stress of everything, Mum had a turn and we put everything on hold until she came home safe and sound.”
“Right,” Barry says. “Of course.” He eyes me carefully. Why is he looking at me like that? The room is stuffy and I breathe deeply. “So, what sort of amount were you thinking?”
“I’ve got it all written down right here. The amount and the bank accounts we’re moving the money between.”
The manager takes the paper and gives it a once over. “Mrs Blackburn, I’ll need your signature on this.”
The small man turns to me. Is he speaking to me? That’s not my name, is it?
“Mrs Blackburn?”
“Of course.”
The tall man sitting next to me looks at me with dark eyes. I have no idea who he is.
“You okay, Mum?” he says. Then he turns to the other man in the room. “Where’s that tea? I think Mum’s a bit dehydrated.”
I don’t like his eyes or the way he’s calling me mum. I don’t have any children.
“I didn’t order tea,” I snap.
Both men stare at me.
I get the impression that they want to find something wrong with me. I won’t give them the satisfaction.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m tired.”
“That’s okay,” says the short man across the desk. “I’ll be right back. I need to run some checks on this because it’s a large sum. But I’m sure everything will be fine.”
As soon as he leaves the room, the one who keeps calling me mum leans towards me. He places his hand over my mouth, presses a thumb into my knee and grinds it deep into my flesh.
I let out a whimper of pain through his closed hand but he doesn’t stop.
His face comes close, and he whispers in my ear. “Pull yourself together or I’ll bury your daughter alive on the moors somewhere so remote that you’ll never find her.”
CHAPTER 54
CLAIRE
Ioften wonder, what if?
What if we had never been separated.
What if I had been brave enough to contact her before all this began.
What if I had never got her involved in all of this.
