by Jack Fiske
Susan cursed under her breath and switched the torch off. It was still pitch black, with no glimmer of light at all. Behind her, Millie held tightly to her belt as she turned left and, switching the torch on once more, they followed the wall back in the general direction of the bathroom. Suddenly the light from her small torch revealed a deep shadow ahead, low down on the wall near to the floor. Susan carefully stepped from rafter to rafter and as the shadow came closer, they saw there was a chimney breast that went up through the roof and next to it, a crawling space which led through the wall and into the roof space beyond. Susan knelt down and shone the torch through the gap. The wall was a good two feet thick and the hole was just high enough for someone to crawl through on hands and knees. Beyond, more rafters stretched out into the blackness.
“Don’t leave me,” a small voice pleaded from behind, as she knelt down and prepared to crawl through.
“I won’t darling. Here, you go first. I’ll follow you through.”
“No. I can’t.” Millie shrank back from the hole, afraid of what might lie beyond.
“O.k. we’ll go through together. Here, you have the torch.” Susan pressed the small torch into her daughter’s hand and pulled her down to a kneeling position. “I’ll go first, but you hold on to my ankle and follow me.”
Susan flattened herself against the side of the hole, so that Millie could see past her and edged forward, Millie lighting the way with the torch from behind and to her right. As Susan’s hand reached out onto the rafters of the room beyond, her heart leapt in her chest as there was a sudden scurrying sound and something small and furry raced along the bottom of the wall and disappeared into the darkness beyond. ‘Don’t panic,’ Susan thought to herself, ‘it’s only a mouse.’
“What’s the matter?” Millie demanded from behind her.
“Nothing.” Susan tried to sound calm. “There was something loose on the rafters and my hand slipped.” There was no reason to frighten her daughter. The mouse had gone and was probably more afraid of them than she was of it.
Susan stood up again and Millie’s head and shoulders followed her through the hole. Susan stooped to brush a large cobweb out of the way, before helping her to her feet.
“Uugh Spiders.” Millie shivered.
“No there aren’t,” Susan countered. “They’re just old cobwebs. Come on.” Taking the torch back from her daughter, they held hands and stepped from rafter to rafter as they crossed the loft space.
“Try to move quietly,” Susan whispered. “We’re probably above the room where the guard is.”
Ten minutes later they had circled the whole loft and had a fair idea of the building’s layout. At the far end of the loft was another wall, but this time with no way through. To the front and back of the building, the roof line came down to meet the rafters at floor level, whilst behind them, the crawling hole next to the chimney led back to the space above their prison. The loft obviously didn’t link up with any other building and unfortunately, there was no sign of a skylight or of any other way out. The only other possibility was that there might be a trapdoor from one of the rooms below.
Susan stopped beside the chimney once more. “You stay here and I’ll check the middle of the room.”
With no wall to steady herself against, Susan dropped to her hands and knees and started working her way out into the middle of the attic across the dusty rafters. Her knees were sore now from crawling and from crouching down to avoid the roof beams. She also had a large splinter in one hand from the rough wood and a graze on her ankle, where she had scraped it getting through the ceiling. After only a few feet, the small torch revealed an area of flooring in front of her and she got to her feet, grateful for something more solid to stand on. As she directed the torch around her, she could see that a small area, about six feet wide, had been covered with boards and in the centre of this was a wooden hatch. Susan turned and whispered for Millie to join her, which she did much more nimbly than her mother, stepping lightly from rafter to rafter as Susan used the torch to light her way.
“Be quiet,” Susan whispered. “I’m going to lift the hatch and see what’s down there.”
Very gently, she eased one side of the hatch upwards. There were no hinges and nothing fastening the hatch in place. It was simply a square of wood, resting within a wooden frame that could be pushed up from below. The wood wedged itself firmly in the frame and Susan had to let it drop again. With no handle or anything to hold, it would be difficult to open the hatch from this side.
“Let me try,” Millie whispered. “I’ve got smaller fingers.”
Susan moved aside and Millie reached down to try one corner of the hatch.
“Got it,” she whispered, as Susan saw her finger disappear around the edge and the square of wood lifted slightly.
Susan put a hand on her arm. “Lift it gently and let me have a look.”
Millie lifted the hatch slowly until one side was just above the frame and Susan could peer through. Although the room below was in darkness, her eyes by now were accustomed to the pitch black of the loft space and by comparison, there was more than enough light to see by. The room below was a small kitchen, with a cooker and kitchen cupboards. The hatch was directly above a solid looking kitchen table and this was gently illuminated by moonlight, which shone through the window behind it. At the far end of the kitchen, an open door led into another room also in darkness, apart from a greyish-blue light that flickered intermittently. Susan held her breath but could hear nothing, so she lifted the hatch completely, laid the square of wood on the floor beside her and put her head through into the kitchen itself. Still she could hear nothing, so she pulled back and cupped her hand round Millie’s ear, so that she could whisper to her.
“Take your shoes off and I’ll lower you onto the table. Don’t make a noise, because I think there’s someone in the other room. When you’re down I’ll follow, but I want you to guide my feet so that I don’t make any sound.”
Millie took her shoes off as instructed and sat on the edge with her legs dangling. Susan was grateful that the area around the hatch had been floored, as it gave her a solid platform to stand on, one leg on either side of the opening. Taking Millie’s hands, she braced herself to take the weight as her daughter slipped her bottom off the edge of the hatch and dangled through the opening. Susan lowered her slowly, realising at the last minute that she couldn’t get her low enough for her feet to reach the table. It was lucky that Millie was light. Taking a deep breath, she transferred her weight to one hand, bent double and, catching the edge of the opening with her free hand, she continued to lower her one handed until her toes scraped the table top.
Millie looked up and made a thumbs up sign with her free hand. Susan let go gently and held her breath. Thankfully, the table was solid and supported Millie without any more than a slight creak as her weight came down on it. Susan took her shoes off and passed both pairs down, then swinging her legs through the trapdoor, she turned onto her stomach and let herself slide slowly through the opening into the room below. A small hand caught her foot and guided it down until she too stood on the tabletop. They held their breath once more, listening for anything other than the creak of the table beneath them and then climbed quietly down to the floor.
Reverting to hand signals rather than speaking, Susan motioned for Millie to stay still as she stepped over to the window. It was the same type as the one in their bathroom, with a small hopper at the top, but this time she could see through it to moonlit fields outside. The window was solid, with no way through other than breaking the glass which, being double glazed, Susan doubted they could do easily. Turning her attention to the kitchen, she crept to the other end and looked carefully around the door into the room beyond. The flickering light, it turned out, came from a small television monitor which stood in the corner of the room and illuminated the scene alternately with a grey and then a bluish light, as it switched automatically from one camera to the other in the rooms beyond. Susan found tha
t she was still holding her breath and she let it out slowly without a sound. As she peered around the room, the dim light from the television monitor fell on a camp bed in the corner, where a dark form was wrapped in a duvet breathing heavily. Susan turned round and motioned for Millie to join her, putting one finger to her lips to remind her to be quiet. Susan pointed to the man in the bed, putting a finger to her lips again in emphasis, before she took her daughter’s hand and they both stepped into the room.
As they crossed the floor, Susan glanced at the picture on the television monitor. The view of the main room that they had been kept in was very dim, but you could just make out the bed and an outline of the furniture. When the monitor switched to the bathroom, the scene was almost completely dark and Susan was sure that even if awake, the man wouldn’t have been able to see what she had been doing to the bathroom ceiling a few hours earlier.
As they reached the centre of the room, Susan felt a floorboard give beneath her foot and there was a quiet creak as her weight came down on it. They froze in their tracks and waited. The man in the bed slept on, not stirring at all. She lifted her foot carefully and the floorboard creaked again, more quietly this time. Again, there was no reaction at all from the man in the bed.
After what seemed an age, they reached the other side of the room and Susan put a hand on the doorknob. It turned easily and she opened the door a few inches and looked through. Beyond lay the small hallway that she had seen earlier in the day – directly opposite, the solid door with large bolts that had kept them prisoner behind it. Opening the door just enough, they squeezed through and Susan closed it behind them, keeping the handle turned until it bumped gently into place and she could let go, letting the latch engage once more in the door frame.
Making hardly any noise, Susan turned the handle on the front door and pulled. Nothing. She pulled again, putting more effort into it this time, but the door wouldn’t move – it was locked. Susan took the small keyring torch and shone its light on the door. There was a Yale lock with a round knob at eye level and a solid looking mortice beneath it. Turning the knob on the Yale, she flicked the catch that held it open and tried again. Still the door didn’t move. The mortice beneath had been locked and there was no sign of a key.
Panic welled up inside Susan’s chest and for a moment she stood there silently in the darkness fighting to keep calm. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Millie was standing next to her, relying on her, waiting for some lead. She couldn’t go to pieces now. They’d have to retrace their steps and try to get out through a window.
Susan cupped her hand around Millie’s ear and whispered instructions, then she turned back to the inner door and gently turned the handle. Inside, the room was the same. The man in the bed had moved slightly and was wheezing in his sleep. The television monitor continued to switch from one picture to another, bathing the room in two-tone light, like a slow motion stroboscope. Millie caught her nose suddenly and screwed up her face before making a strangled sneezing noise, then once more and again a third time. The man in the bed stirred in his sleep but nothing more. Susan put a hand on her shoulder and guided her slowly to the front of the room where floor length curtains hung across the window. She held her breath. Don’t let there be bars. Please don’t let there be bars. They reached the curtains and Susan pulled the heavy cloth away from the wall to let the two of them slide behind. There were no bars. Thank goodness.
The window was different to the one in the other room. A bigger frame with a large casement window at either end, each of which would open outwards. Through the glass, Susan could see a paved yard with two cars and a van parked at the far side and behind them, an imposing stone house illuminated by the moonlight. Everything looked quiet, so she carefully released the catch on the right hand window, lifted the bar at the bottom and pushed. The window gave a little, but it wouldn’t open. Susan pushed harder, but still the thing wouldn’t budge. It was jammed tight. She closed the catch again and motioned for Millie to move along behind the curtain, so that she could reach the window at the other end. Again she released the catch and lifted the bar at the bottom, but this time when she pushed, the window gave and swung outwards on its hinges.
Suddenly, all hell broke loose. What sounded like a fire engine, started up in the hallway behind them with an almost painfully loud bell and a red flashing light. No! Oh no! – The damn place had a burglar alarm and they’d just set it off. Behind them there was a crashing noise as their guard, who had been sound asleep, half fell out of bed and stumbled around in the dark looking for the light switch.
“Quick, get out,” Susan whispered urgently to Millie and pushed her up onto the window sill and out through the open window, holding her hand until she jumped to the ground outside. Light flooded the room behind her as she scrambled onto the window ledge herself. Before she could step through, two powerful arms locked around her through the curtain and hauled her back into the room. The curtain, trapped between them, tore away from the wall, tripping them both so that they landed in a heap with Susan on top.
“Run!” Susan screamed,
The man, winded by Susan’s weight falling on top of him and tangled in the curtain, lost his grip as she fought and kicked. Susan lunged towards the window as the man behind threw the curtain aside and scrambled to his feet. Her heart pounding, she heaved a chair between them and jumped for the window sill. Millie still stood outside watching in horror. “Run!” Susan screamed at her. “Go! . . . Go! . . . I’ll catch up.”
Millie turned and ran for the driveway as lights started to come on in the house behind her.
Susan had one knee on the window sill and one foot on the frame before a hand closed tightly around her ankle. Taking all her weight on both arms, she kicked out violently with her free leg, catching the man full in the face with her heel. There was a scream of pain and the hand around her ankle let go as the man staggered backwards clutching at his nose.
Susan didn’t stop to see what damage she had done. She threw herself through the window, stumbling to her knees on the paving outside. Across the yard, a door was thrown open and an outside light suddenly illuminated everything in stark black and white shadow. Millie was going flat out and just about to round the corner of the building. Susan staggered up off her knees and broke into a run, following her. Across the yard, two men burst through the open door, both half dressed, rushing towards the annexe. Susan veered away from them at full speed and sprinted for the open end of the courtyard and the dark shapes of the trees that could be seen beyond.
“That way! That way!” a voice shouted from the open window behind her, but the two men had seen her anyway and were bearing down on her.
As she turned the corner of the building, Susan could see Millie thirty or forty yards ahead, running down the gravel track towards the road.
“The trees! Into the trees!” Susan shouted, but Millie couldn’t hear her.
The sound of boots on gravel behind her warned just how close the two men were, before her legs were suddenly kicked out from under her and she fell headlong, gravel embedding itself into her outstretched hands and elbows as she tried to break her fall . One of the men ran past her as the other stopped, panting heavily. A heavy boot thudded into her ribs and as she tried to roll away to protect herself, the man threw himself on top of her and pinned her to the ground, one hand around her throat.
“Get the girl!” he shouted, as a third and fourth man arrived, one holding a shotgun and the other pressing a bloody handkerchief to his face.
Susan was dragged to her feet, her captor holding her tightly, with one wrist pinned behind her back and her head jerked backwards where he’d taken a fistful of her hair. The man with the handkerchief stepped forward and lashed out, kicking her fiercely in the groin. Her knees buckled and her stomach heaved, but she was prevented from falling by the grip from behind and the force of a second blow, as the man with the handkerchief hit her again, this time with the side of his hand. Susan could taste the blood
as her teeth bit into the inside of her lip and she twisted and struggled to get away from the next one.
“That’ll do,” a harsh voice instructed and the older man with grey hair, who carried the shotgun, put a hand on the man’s arm to prevent a second blow.
“The bitch has broken my nose.”
“Good!” the older man replied. “It’ll save us doing it. You’re bloody useless. If the alarm hadn’t gone off you’d still be tucked up in bed wouldn’t you?”
“It’s not my fault Mr Walker.”
“What!” the man holding Susan exclaimed in disbelief.
“‘Aye, damn right!” the older man growled. He glared at Susan’s assailant and swung his shotgun to point directly at him. “Not content just to let them get away then? You want to give them names as well. Maybe you’d like to give them addresses and telephone numbers before you arrange a taxi to take them to the nearest police station?”
The man with the handkerchief opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it and looked down at the ground as he continued to mop the trickle of blood that still ran from his nose.
“O.k. Back to the house,” Walker ordered. “You too Quinn.”
“Hey, now wait a minute!” Quinn objected.
“Just so everyone knows that we’re in this together, let’s have some introductions.” Walker turned to Susan. “Mrs Turner – Liam Quinn. He turned to the man with the handkerchief. “The idiot who let you go this evening is Gary Clarke and the man coming back with your daughter is Tony Bryant.”
Further down the gravel track, Bryant had caught up with Millie and was leading her back towards the group. Millie was sobbing quietly and had a bright red mark across her left cheek.
“What have you done to her?” Susan cried, lurching away from Quinn.