‘But Emily’s gone,’ I said urgently, wondering whether telling him this was a good idea or not.
‘Really?’ Peter cocked his head, an amused smile on his face.
‘No seriously, she’s moved out.’
He laughed politely. ‘What since yesterday? I don’t think so.’
‘But—’
‘Enough!’ he shouted his face darkening. I jumped at the change in mood. He stepped forward menacingly and grabbed my arm.
‘This way,’ he snarled and pulled me through to the lounge.
Once in the other room, he picked up a rucksack from the top of the stairs, headed straight over to the dining table and pulled out a chair. He had it all planned.
‘Sit,’ he said, thrusting a knee into my stomach forcing me to sit down. ‘Don’t move or I’ll kill you.’ He was calm again. Digging carefully into the bag, he produced a Stanley knife with a flourish. His dark eyes never left my face.
My stomach dropped with a horrible loop-the-loop, falling-away sensation. The hairs on my forearms rose, jumping to attention like iron filings to a magnet and my thighs were doing a jig all by themselves.
With a sly smile he pulled out a roll of silver tape. My stomach calmed for a second. Was that what the blade was for? I’d been so afraid he would use it on me. With every loop of tape, he became more confident and positively chatty.
‘I hate to say this, but it’s not you I’m interested in.’ He sneered. ‘Sorry, you just don’t tempt me. Now, Emily, on the other hand. She’s all woman.’ A scowl crossed his face and his expression hardened. ‘Unfortunately, she needs teaching a little lesson but no matter, she will learn.’
Admiring the Formula One track of tape that wound round my wrists and forearms, securing me to the chair, Peter walked round me poking the tape, before putting one last strip firmlyover my mouth. He gave a little skip and sat down on the sofa. Then, crossing one leg over his knee, he sat there flicking through one of Emily’s magazines as if he were waiting for a doctor’s appointment.
* * *
The minutes ticked by on the clock on the wall. The right side of my face was pulsing with pain, my hip bone ached and my feet were gradually going numb.
Emily was never going to come. Daniel would probably come and go. He’d give up when I didn’t answer the door or my mobile. My phone had rung several times in the last forty-five minutes. Every time Peter grinned matily at me. At the second call he mocked, ‘Want me to get that for you?’ and after the fourth, ‘Popular, aren’t you?’ before carrying on flicking through his magazine.
Daniel was bound to drive off in disgust at being stood up. And what about Barney? Had one of the calls been from him, or maybe Kate, or Bill or Mum?
The straight edge of the tape was cutting into my nose, sharp and uncomfortable, making me sniff. I tried hard not to. The last thing I wanted was for Peter to think I was crying.
Now that my heart had slowed, I felt calmer but painful pins and needles were taking over my feet. To take my mind off them, I studied Peter. What if I needed a wee? Would he let me? No chance. He’d leave me to do it right here and sit in my own puddle.
He didn’t know that Emily had gone for good but he was ready for the long haul. Judging by the controlled calm of his approach, he was very good at waiting.
As marauding maniacs went, he looked like a twenty-five-watt version instead of the thousand-watt Hollywood-neon variety. No maniacal gleam in his eye. No inarticulatemutterings or frothing at the mouth. He looked totally nondescript. Harmless even.
As the minutes ticked by, Peter got more comfortable. He even went and helped himself to a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Pouring a glass, he raised it in a silent toast and with a sly smile took an appreciative gulp.
‘A very good year this one,’ he said, smirking at me. The fact that he’d got the glasses and wine so quickly showed he knew his way around the flat. Just how many times had he pawed through our things?
My shoulders, forced back, had passed through the screaming stage and were now numb and tense. I never would have believed how uncomfortable it could be forced to stay in one position for such a long time.
Worst of all was the knowledge that no one was coming. Self-pity crowded in. No one would miss me until work tomorrow, even then they might just wonder why I hadn’t phoned in. How long would it take for someone to notice? As a silent tear escaped, I turned my head, so that Peter couldn’t see it.
* * *
Peter snapped to attention upon hearing the scratch and chink of a key in the front door. And so did I. It was the last sound I was expecting. The only person with one of our new keys was Emily. It couldn’t be her, could it?
Peter turned and smiled. ‘She’s home,’ he grinned.
For the first time, I could see the shine of saliva on his lips.
He put his fingers over his lips as if to say ‘sh’ and giggled conspiratorially. I could see the anticipation in the sudden tension in his shoulders.
