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There couldn't be much battery time left.

"Everything OK?" I said. I tried hard not to convey any sense of panic, but I knew we would be in trouble soon. If the phone went dead, would she remember what I'd told her to do?

"I can't see a thing. Nick."

I thought for a few seconds, trying to remember more of the layout.

"OK, Kelly, go very slowly to where the sink is.

Go and stand by the hob."

"What's that?"

"It's the bit you cook on with saucepans. You see it?"

"Yeah."

"OK, there's a switch on the right-hand side. Can you see that?"

"I'll look."

A second or two later she said, "I can see now."

She must have switched on the small fluorescent light that illuminated the stove top; she sounded relieved.

"Good girl. Now I want you to go back and very gently close the kitchen door. Will you do that for me?"

"OK. You are coming for me. Nick?"

I wasn't feeling confident about this at all. Should I stop it now and just get her to open the door for me and wait? No, fuck it. He might be getting a phone call any minute about Simmonds's death.

"Of course I am, but I can't come unless you do what I say, OK? Keep the telephone to your ear and very gently close that door."

I heard the telltale click.

"What I want you to do now is go and have a look under the sink and put all the bottles and things on the table. Will you do that for me?"

"OK."

There was silence, then a soft clatter as she moved bottles and cans around.

"Everything's out now."

"Well done! Now, very quietly, read out the labels to me.

Can you do that?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"There's too many things and it's too dark. I can't do it."

She was sounding under pressure now; there was that wobble in her voice.

Fuck, this is taking too long.

"It's OK, Kelly, just walk over to the light switch by the door and turn the light on. Don't rush. Will you do that?"

"OK." It sounded as if her nose was stuffed up. I knew the sound so well by now. The next stage, if I wasn't very careful, would be tears and failure.

I heard her shuffling toward the light switch.

"I can see now, Nick."

"OK, go back and read to me what the labels say, OK?"

"OK." She moved back to the table. I could hear her pick up the cleaning products.

"Ajax."

"OK, Kelly, what's the next one?"

Fucking hell, this was outrageous. I held the phone hard against my ear, almost holding my breath as I silently willed her to succeed. I was really pumped; I could feel my heart going. I was writhing like a madman in a straitjacket, twisting and turning in the kiosk, miming Kelly's actions to myself. I looked across at the other booth; the woman who was talking to her friend had wiped the condensation from the glass to get a better view of me and now seemed to be relaying a running commentary. I must have looked like a mass murderer, with cuts and scratches on my face, and my hair and clothes soaking wet.

The loud noise of metal clattering onto wood made me jump.

Kelly? Kelly

Silence, then the phone was picked up.

"Sorry, Nick. I knocked a spoon off. I didn't see it. I'm scared. I don't want to do this. Please come and get me."

It wasn't long before the crying was going to start.

"Kelly, don't worry, it's OK, it's OK."

No, not now, for Christ's sake! I heard sniffing on the phone.

"It's OK, Kelly, it's OK. I can't get you unless you help me.

You must be brave. Euan is trying to kill me; only you can help me. Can you do that for me?"

"Please hurry. Nick. I want to be with you."

"It's all right, it's all right."

It wasn't all right. Nick, because Nick's fucking money was disappearing. I was down to my last few coins. They weren't going to last. I put another coin in and it rattled out into the coin return; I had to scramble for another one.

Kelly started to go through more of the labels. Most of the words she couldn't read. I asked her to spell them. As she got three letters out I worked out the rest.

"No, that one's no good. Read the next."

My mind was now racing, trying to remember ingredients and formulas. At last she read out something I could use.

"Kelly, you must listen very carefully. That's a green can, isn't it? Put it where you can find it again. Then I want you to creep out to the room next door, where the washing machine is. You know the one?"

"Yes."

Euan had a place for everything, and everything had its place. I even knew that his forks would be lined up beside each other in the drawer.

"Just by the door is a cabinet, and in it there's a blue bottle.

The label says antifreeze."

"What?"

"Antifreeze. A-N-T-I... I want you to bring it to the table,

OK?"

The phone clunked onto the stove. I started to sweat even more.

After what seemed like an eternity she came back on.

"I've got it" "Put it on the table and then open it."

I heard the phone go down again and lots of heavy breathing and sniffing as she struggled with the bottle top.

"I don't know how to do it."

"Just twist it. You know how to open a bottle."

"I can't. It won't move. I am trying. Nick, but my hands are shaking."

I then heard a soft, long moan. I was sure it was going to turn into crying.

Shit, I don't need this. It isn't going to work.

"Kelly? Kelly? Are you OK? Talk to me, come on, talk to me."

I was getting nothing.

Come on, Kelly, come on.

Nothing. All I could hear was her holding back tears and sniffing.

"Nick... I want you to get me. Please, Nick, please." She was sobbing now.

"Just take your time, Kelly, just take your time. It's OK, everything's OK. I'm here, don't worry. OK, let's just stand and listen. If you can hear anything, you tell me on the phone, OK, and I'll try to listen at the same time."

I listened. I wanted to make sure Euan wasn't awake. I also wanted a break: there needs to be a cut in the action at a time like this, otherwise the errors snowball and people start tripping over themselves; so let's take our time, but at the same time be as fast as possible. I knew exactly what I needed to do, but the frustration lay in trying to interpret it to this child, under pressure, and to get her to work quietly and all the time I was running out of money and the mobile was running out of battery life.

The woman left her booth and gave me a grin of appeasement in case I was going to lunge at her with a meat cleaver.

"Are you OK now, Kelly?"

"Yes, do you want me to unscrew the bottle still?"

I couldn't understand why she couldn't do it. I started giving her more instructions. Then I remembered: the bottle had a childproof top. As I started to tell her how to undo it, there was a soft bleep.

Battery. Shit!

"Yes, remember to push the top down before you turn. We just have to be a bit quicker or the phone is going to stop before we finish."

"Now what?"

"Is it on the table with the top undone?"

Nothing.

"Kelly? Kelly? Are you there?"

Was the battery dead?

Then I heard, "What do I do now?"

"Thank goodness, I thought the battery had gone. Is there anything you can open that green can with? I know, use the spoon, Kelly. Very, very carefully now, pick it up, put the phone on the table, and then open the can. OK?"

I listened, running through all the different options there were left if this scheme fucked up. I came to the conclusion there were none.