Back later, bitch.
Maybe he was sharpening his knife right now?
But she couldn't just sit there waiting for him to come and kill her. Otherwise all her efforts would be in vain. No, she had to do something. A plan formed in her mind. She'd hide at the top of the steps behind the door, and when he came inside she'd push him down them before he had a chance to spot her. Then she'd make a break for it. It was pretty lame as plans went, but it was the best she could think up at the moment.
She lifted up the ankle chain and started to get up from the bed. And then stopped as the key turned in the lock and the door opened.
She was too late.
Hurriedly, she got back on the bed and let the chain slip to the floor. Her hands were shaking and she felt fear running up her spine. Was this it? The last seconds of her life, in a dingy, cold basement miles from home?
Silence.
She made no move to put on the hood as she stared towards the staircase.
The light came on, and she squinted against its brightness.
'Emma,' came a voice from the top of the steps, 'it's me.'
She felt a surge of excitement. It was the smelly one. She was going to be OK.
'Hi,' she said quietly. 'I'm here.'
'Put your hood on, honey. OK? It's almost time to go home.'
She did as she was told, hardly able to believe her luck.
'Am I honestly going home?'
'That's right,' he answered in that wheezy voice of his. 'It's over. Your mum paid the money so you don't have to stay here any more.'
She heard him come close. Smelled him, too, the BO so strong now it made her gag beneath the hood. He put something down on the floor by the bed and she thought she heard water sloshing.
'Am I going to go now?'
'Very soon. We'll just get you ready. Then there'll be a little journey, and that'll be it. Back home to your mum. First I'm going to give you a little wash, though. So you're all nice and clean.'
She felt a wet sponge on her left arm. It made her feel cold and itchy. He ran it slowly up and down before starting on the other one.
'Bet that feels good, doesn't it?'
'You don't need to do this. I can wait until I'm home.'
'I want to do it.'
He moved her arms to one side and lifted up her T-shirt, rubbing the sponge on her tummy in small circles. Water dripped down towards the top of her skirt, and she heard him swallow. It was a really horrible sound, like something a frog would make.
'What are you doing?' she whispered.
'Just washing you, darling,' he replied, lifting her T-shirt higher. Swallowing a second time.
That was when she realized with a sickening feeling that the nightmare hadn't ended after all.
Forty-eight
The driveway that led down to Woodlands Farm was situated on a quiet wooded road half a mile south of the M25, a simple wooden sign attached to a beech tree announcing its presence. There were no other houses in the immediate vicinity, making Bolt think that it would be an ideal place to hold someone without arousing suspicion.
The tension coursed through him. Scott Ridgers had motive; he'd worked at Andrea's place and then disappeared at the same time that Emma had gone missing. And as a fully fledged city boy, why else would he be out here in the back of beyond?
Not wishing to announce his presence, Bolt drove thirty yards further along the road before pulling up on the verge and manoeuvring his car as far into the trees as it would go. He killed the lights and got out. Through the darkness created by the thick concentration of trees, he thought he could just make out lights, but it was difficult to tell. According to the sat-nav, Woodlands Farm was set back at least a hundred yards from the road.
Knowing how short time was, he moved swiftly, making for the driveway. His plan was to approach from the front as quietly as possible and recce the place. If there was no sign of Ridgers, he'd break in. He'd taken the law into his own hands enough times today to worry about doing it again, and it was possible that his actions had already cost him his job.
The advantage, however, was that he now had nothing to lose.
Forty-nine
Emma knew what was coming. The dirty, stinking pervert wanted to have sex with her. Was going to have sex with her if she didn't do something about it.
A gloved hand touched her knee, and she gagged beneath the hood.
She had an idea. It was her only chance.
'Can you undo the handcuffs?' she asked, trying to make her voice sound as if she might be interested in what he was about to do to her. 'Then maybe we can . . .' She let the words trail off.
'You're not teasing me, are you?' he said, seriously. 'I don't like girls who tease me. I've had too much of that recently.'
'No, course not. I've done it before, you know.'
He chuckled. 'Ooh, you are a naughty girl, aren't you? I think maybe we can make things a bit more comfortable for you.'
He stopped sponging her and she heard him fiddling around for the key. She tensed as he found it and unlocked the cuffs, slipping them off. She heard him stand up, then the sound of a zipper being pulled.
Now! Now! Now! a voice in her head screamed.
She pulled off the hood and jumped up from the bed in one movement, kneeing him in the groin as hard as she could. He gasped in pain and staggered backwards, clutching himself with both hands.
For the first time, she got a look at him. He was dressed in jeans and a dirty white T-shirt, and his face was covered by a balaclava. Tattoos adorned his arms.
Picking up the chain, she ran past him, dodging beneath a flailing arm as he tried to grab her.
'You little cow!' he bellowed, lurching after her, still holding on to his balls.
She took the steps two at a time, the chain still in her hand. Her limbs felt stiff and painful from the sudden burst of exercise, but adrenalin drove her on because she knew that if he caught her, this time he'd kill her for sure. He hadn't locked the door from the inside, and she yanked it open and ran out, slamming it behind her.
She was in a hallway. A door ahead led through to a living room, one to the right looked like it led outside. She turned hard right, ran across the hall and grabbed the handle. It turned, but the door didn't open. Panic flooded through her.
Behind her, the cellar door flew open and banged hard against the wall as he came stumbling out after her.
There was a second handle. Tucking the chain beneath her arm, she turned the two of them simultaneously, and this time the door opened.
A gloved hand snatched at her collar, but she kept going, hearing it rip as he lost his grip, and then she was out into the night, breathing in fresh air for the first time in days. There was a gate and fence ahead, beyond them trees. The gate was shut. She knew he'd catch her if she ran towards it, so she darted left, running along the front of the house, past an outbuilding, making for a field with long grass up ahead.