‘No, of course not. We’ll be quiet as mice. All you need to do is let me out of the house so I can get to the village and after that go back to my own home. He’ll never know you helped me.’
He gave her a frightened look and backed towards the door.
‘I just need some air, Timothy. Nobody likes to be locked up.’ She tried to keep her voice light. ‘If I can just get outside into the air, I’ll be fine. Then you can go back to bed.’
Another moment passed before he looked directly at her. And there it was, the one thing she’d been hoping for all these months. A flicker of awareness, and a clear sense of their shared humanity. Despite the long years of incarceration and the constant cocktail of drugs, he was still in there.
His hands were clumsy as he struggled with the knots. For a moment, she was afraid he wouldn’t be able to loosen them. But at last, with a gasp of relief, she was free, though her wrists throbbed as the blood returned.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, weak with relief. His face was pale, his pupils large.
‘Okay, Timothy, here’s what we’ll do. You go up the stairs first. On tiptoe, as quiet as possible. Can you do that? And then you’ll stand in the hallway, very still, like a statue, and listen. We need to be sure your father is asleep. If you don’t hear anything, I’ll follow you up the stairs. Then you’ll open the front door for me, so I can get out. As soon as I’m gone, you go back up to your room, very quiet, and get into bed. Do you think you can do that?’
His eyes flicked from her face to the door. His skin gleamed with sweat. But he nodded and turned towards the stairs.
The scrape of his trainers on the gritty floor boomed in her ears. She flinched at the sound.
A thought suddenly hit her. The dog. Where was Lulu? Was she in the house or asleep outside?
Fear lodged in her throat. ‘We need to be quiet, Timothy. Very, very quiet.’
One step, two. Another step, agonisingly slow. As Tim eased his bulk up the stairs, the steps creaked under his weight. Erin held her breath, waiting for Stern to fling open his bedroom door.
At the top of the stairs, Tim stopped and cocked his head to listen. No sounds came from the upper floor. She swayed on her feet as her heart raced, worried she’d faint dead away from the fear alone.
Tim beckoned her to follow. She climbed the steps with care, testing each tread before putting her weight on it. When she emerged into the hall, it was stuffy and warm. No hint of fresh air from yesterday’s storm. Every window in the house must be shut tight.
She touched Tim’s arm and held her finger to her lips. Aside from Stern, her biggest worry was the dog. Where was Lulu? Would she start barking when Erin, a stranger, fled across the lawn? To keep the dog quiet, Tim would have to come with her, at least to the end of the drive. But that was three hundred metres at least, and he might not agree to accompany her that far in the darkness. If there was a moon, it was obscured by clouds. The hall was pitch black. Only a dim glow came from a light in the kitchen.
She motioned to Tim to follow and crept towards the front door. Under his weight, a floorboard creaked. Panic gripped her chest. She sucked in her breath and counted to ten. Upstairs, all was quiet.
Almost there.
At the front door, she tilted her head to listen before reaching for the handle. But when she pulled, nothing happened. The deadbolt was locked, and the key removed. No way out from here. As she struggled to quell her panic, her breath came in gasps. The logo on Tim’s trainers glowed like an iridescent beacon in the darkness. A surge of adrenaline urged her to flee. But how?
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She leaned close and whispered, ‘Let’s try the kitchen door.’
With infinite care, they headed towards the light at the end of the hall. Erin winced at each creak of the floorboards, expecting at any moment for Stern to bolt from his bed.
A flash of lightning lit the hall, followed by the crack of thunder. The sudden clatter of rain on the roof was a relief, if only as a cover for her escape. As they moved towards the kitchen, each sound was like a knife at her throat.
At the door to the backyard, she turned the knob, but it was locked from the inside.
Tim peered at her with frightened eyes. ‘There’s a key.’
She waited. ‘Do you know where it is?’
He pointed to a row of canisters for sugar, coffee, and flour. Taped to the lid of the sugar canister was a door key. She peeled the tape away and clutched the key in her hand.
‘I’m going to leave now,’ she whispered. ‘As soon as I’m out the door, you relock it, return the key and go back to bed. Okay?’
He nodded. The yellow glow from the stove light cast a sickly hue on his skin.
Almost there. She eased the key into the lock. Freedom was but a moment away.
When a flash of lightning lit up the room, Tim cried out. She turned to see a shadow in the doorway. The overhead light flicked on, dazzling her eyes. The key clattered to the floor.
‘Are you off then, Dr Cartwright?’ He turned to Tim. ‘You’ve been a bad boy, Timmy.’ In the sharp, halogen light, Stern’s eyes were brittle as glass. With his right hand, he gripped a shotgun, wielding it like a truncheon.
‘Timothy,’ she said. ‘Help me.’
But he was looking at the weapon in his father’s hand and backing away.
Stern raised his free hand and jingled a set of car keys. ‘Since you’re so anxious to leave, why don’t we go for
