He slowly turned round, bringing his face right up to the crack in the door, brown eyes glinting at me. The red scarf.
My legs suddenly seemed unable to take my weight and wobbled beneath me.
‘Hello.’ He grinned. ‘Like my last delivery?’
Before I had a chance to slam the door closed, he had thrust his arm though the small opening and grabbed my arm. ‘Gotcha,’ he rasped and then giggled.
My heart was slamming into my ribs as I tried to pull away but his fingers tightened. Looking down I could see them short and stubby at the end of forearms, thick with gorilla hair. I shuddered. The chain rattled alarmingly as his leg now forced its way through the gap, jamming open the door to its fullest extent. My throat felt tight, as I opened my mouth. No scream came out.
The door. I had to close it. With all my weight, I threw myself at it, hurting my hip as it slammed into the door.
There was an angry grunt from the other side as he let go of my arm. Thank God the chain was holding. Still pushing at the door, hoping that he would pull back and go away, I dodged his arm that was flailing blindly towards my head.
Not fast enough! The next moment he had a handful of my hair. With a sharp violent twist, he pulled hard slamming my head into the metal doorframe.
For a moment, white lights flashed in my eyes and a wave of sickness grabbed at my stomach.
‘Nmph,’ I grunted. As the pain radiated in waves down my face I rocked for a second trying to breathe. The hand grasping my hair loosened briefly. Then... thunk. I felt the cold metal bite into my cheekbone again. With sickening anticipation, I felt his fingers pulling tight again on my hair. Please, don’t let him do it again.
Raising my hands to my head, I dug my fingernails hard into his hand and ignoring the pain of my hair pulled tight away from my scalp, I gave a desperate tug.
I couldn’t believe it. The relief as I flew backwards. But as I looked up my relief turned to horror. My God. The chain. The links had burst apart. It dropped uselessly to the floor. Then Peter came falling through the door after me, his arms flappinglike a windmill as he tried to stay upright. He tumbled to an ungainly heap, hitting the wall on his way down.
Without waiting to see more, I turned taking the stairs as fast as I could. The kitchen! From there I could get down the fire escape to the yard and get away.
As I reached the kitchen, pausing momentarily to listen to Peter’s footsteps thudding up the stairs, I could hear my mobile ringing in the lounge. If only I could get to it.
God, he was still coming. Grabbing the handle, I opened the back door straight onto the fridge that was still waiting for the man from the council. Please let Peter be bigger than me, I prayed, squeezing past, my hips protesting as I barely made it. He was small for a guy but surely his frame was still wider than my skinny one.
Halfway down the stairs, my heart sank as I noticed the large padlock on the back gate. Shit, how was I going to get out? Could I climb over the fence? It was over six foot.
Glancing back through the metal steps I saw that the door to the junk shop was open. Jumping the last four steps, I twisted as I landed and scooted through the door. Above me I could hear the grate of metal and I could see the fridge moving. I didn’t wait, instead I ducked quickly inside.
Hands shaking, I pushed the door closed very quietly, searching in the gloomy half-light for a key. Nothing. Groping up and down, my fingers felt the doorframe. My eyes were adjusting to the dim light as my fingers gripped cold metal. Relieved, I slipped the bolt into place. That would give me time to get out of the front of the shop onto the street.
Outside I could hear Peter’s footsteps ringing on the metal treads.
I moved quickly though the little hallway, darting into the main room of the shop. This was the biggest room, with the till and the entrance. Over to the right was a smaller room that ledinto two even smaller ones. Trying to get my bearings I moved left quickly, bumping into something at thigh level. Another bloody bruise. Odd shadows merged together in the half-light making unknown shapes.
It was a while since I’d been in here. There could be anything barring my way. Last time I’d popped in, the place had been filled with threadbare old sofas piled high alongside everything from old comics, horse brasses, fireguards and saucepans.
Something caught the sleeve of my blouse, momentarily anchoring me. Damn, I had to free myself. From the cold metal under my fingers, I guessed I was tangled up with a cast iron bed frame. Wrenching my arm violently, I ripped the sleeve of my top, the screech of fabric sounding horribly loud. I stilled for a second. Then there was a crash at the back door.
I needed to get to the entrance and fast. My eyes had adjusted to the light now. Damn! Seeing the door properly I realised there was no way I could reach the deadbolt at the top.
Frantically I pulled at a chair and leapt on the arm. It was no good. Still not high enough.
From the hallway, I could hear the strangled squeak of wood being smashed. My ears roared, it sounded as if the door was being broken down.
There was no way out. No way past him, unless I hid in here and hoped he went into the other two rooms. Then I could sneak out of the back door and back up the stairs to the flat.
Another louder crash. I had to move and quickly.
Instinctively I dropped to the floor, where I could feel the tickle of dust irritating my nose.
There was a sideboard at the other side of the room, if I just squeezed behind it, I would be hidden from view. Scuttling along the floor, I just made it, curled against the wall and the furniture, my head brushing the floor, as I heard a final crack of the outsidedoor finally giving way. Footsteps tapped briskly towards me and then stopped.
The room was completely quiet, except for the intermittent rush of cars outside. The dust had made my nose run but I didn’t dare sniff. The trickle was inching down my upper lip. Listening carefully, in between the cars, I could just hear the soft shuffle of a shoe.
