She looked up for the first time, straight at Jimmy.
Jimmy nodded to himself for several moments. 'So how did the photo turn out?'
'Jimmy! Please! I'm serious.'
'Well, they're stowaways, aren't they? And Pedroza threatened to kill you because your record with stowaways isn't very good, is it?'
'That's not fair!'
'Isn't it?'
'No. You're . . . different. There's a whole family living in a freezer! They could be anything. What if they're terrorists?'
'Did they look like terrorists?'
'What do terrorists look like?'
'I've no idea.'
'Jimmy — please! They shouldn't be there! But Pedroza's going to kill me if I tell anyone!'
Jimmy nodded. Then he raised a finger, as if he'd had a sudden brainwave. 'I know what's going on . . .'
'What?'
'It's all a figment of your imagination.'
'My . . .?'
'You made all this up just to add a bit of excitement to your life, or to get a lot of people panicked or worried because . . . well, because that's what you're like. You like being the centre of attention.'
'You . . . you!' Claire suddenly reached across and snapped her camera out of his hands. 'Right! I'll prove it to you! I'm going down now to get a picture of them. And if you were any sort of a journalist at all, you'd want to come as well, to get the story, but you're obviously not. You can't even spell!'
She snorted dismissively and stomped off towards the elevators.
'Let me know if he cuts your head off!' Jimmy shouted after her.
***
If you mix anger with fear, you quite often get adrenaline. Now it buzzed through Claire like electricity. She was determined to prove that Pedroza's mysterious family existed. She only needed a second to take a photo and then she would make Jimmy Armstrong eat his words.
The first person she saw when she reached the kitchens was Pedroza himself. She almost turned back right there and then. But he was too busy overseeing dinner preparation to notice her and she was able to duck in low behind a counter and run, half doubled-over towards the freezers.
OK, so far so good.
Six massive doors lined either side of the freezer room. Five were closed, but the sixth, where she'd seen the family earlier, was still tantalizingly open. Claire swung the camera off her shoulder, set it the way Scoop had shown her, then cautiously ventured forward. There was no light on inside the freezer, so she would have to use flash. It would immediately alert those hiding inside, but she had no choice.
Hit and run. Hit and run!
Claire stood to one side of the door. All she could hear was a dull hum from the other freezers, the buzz of the fluorescent lights above and the thundering of her own heart. She checked her camera once more. She would only have one chance. She wasn't going to get them to say cheese.
Deep breath!
She counted to three, then she stepped into the gap, raised the camera and took her shot. She was already turning away as it flashed, but she stopped immediately. There was no need to flee. The freezer was completely empty.
Claire stared into it. Not only were the people gone, so were all of their belongings. The shabby suitcases, the rubbish on the floor, even the sunbed. She glanced to her left and right, trying to decide if somehow she'd targeted the wrong freezer.
No. I'm certain.
It was only an hour since her frightening encounter with Pedroza — long enough to move them elsewhere. As Jimmy had shown, it was easy enough to hide yourself on a ship as big as the Titanic. But she couldn't go back and tell him that. He would be doubly convinced she'd made it all up. There had to be some evidence.
Claire stepped into the freezer.
Although it wasn't switched on it was still cool inside. And clean. It was just a freezer.
Claire jumped at a sudden knock on the freezer door. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest as she turned, fully expecting to see Pedroza with a carving knife. But it was Jimmy, grinning in.
'Why don't you introduce me to the family?' he asked smugly.
'Jimmy,' Claire hissed, 'what are you doing here?'
'Writing a story. At first it was going to be about a mysterious group of stowaways, now it's going to be about a little rich kid who makes up all kinds of crap.'
'They were here, I swear . . .' Jimmy stepped into the freezer. The metallic floor, walls and ceiling were spotless. 'Come out and show yourselves!' Jimmy cried.
'Shhhh! Don't. . .'
And then she saw it.
Jimmy had moved to her left, blocking the light from outside for just a moment, but as the light bounced off the wall in front of her again she saw . . . she wasn't certain . . . she moved closer — it was . . .
'Look, Jimmy!'
Jimmy moved up to her shoulder. At first he saw nothing.
'I don't. . .'
'You're blocking the light again.'
Jimmy moved and looked again.
'I still don't. . .'
Then he saw it. A tiny hand-print on the wall. A child's hand.
Claire smiled triumphantly. 'They must have been here, how else could—'
It wasn't a sound that made them both turn together, it was a change in the light. Not sudden and swift, like a light being switched off, but just a gradual dimming.
The freezer door was closing!
They had the briefest glimpse of Pedroza's laughing face before they were plunged into utter darkness.
'No!' Claire yelled.
They charged blindly across the room together, but only in time to hear a lock being turned.
They hammered on the door. They demanded to be let out, they screamed and threatened and, after a while, begged. Yet, already, somewhere within themselves, they knew it was useless; that the doors were too thick; that all their banging and shouting could not be heard outside.
'Claire . . .'
'Please! Let us out! Please!'
'Claire!'
'What?'
'Listen.'
A loud hum.
'Oh no,' said Claire. 'Oh no!'
The freezer had been switched on.
They started their hammering on the door again.
'Please . . . let us out! Please!'
11
Ice
It was pitch black. This was a good thing in some ways, because they couldn't see the cold mist of their breath or the ice forming on their hair and eyebrows. They weren't aware of the look of raw fear in each other's eyes. There was just the hum of the freezer and the chattering of their teeth. It had been an hour. They were freezing.
They had agreed not to panic.
Then they had panicked.
They had yelled and hammered. They had jogged on the spot, trying to keep warm. But the cold penetrated everything astonishingly quickly. Of the two, Jimmy was better off. He was still wearing the overalls he had swiped from the crew locker room. Claire was in a T-shirt and jeans.
'How . . . could he . . . do this?' Jimmy whispered through frozen lips.
'If you'd . . . just believed me . . . then I wouldn't . . . have come . . . down here again . . .'
'So . . . it's my . . . fault?'
'Yes . . . everything . . . is your fault . . .'
Despite this, they hugged each other, trying to keep warm.
'I can't . . . feel my feet . . .' said Jimmy.
'My nose . . . is so sore . . .'
'I hate . . . this boat. . .'