Marie’s eyes met Carly’s and there was both question and fear in them.
‘Yes,’ said Carly eventually. Marie had the right idea. Leah was born only twelve minutes after Marie, but she’d always seemed much younger – the one they needed to protect with her endless worries. It was better to lie and calm her. ‘It’s a game.’
‘But I don’t want to play.’ Leah sobbed harder.
‘If we don’t all play, we can’t all stay together,’ Marie said.
‘What do you mean?’ Leah wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
‘I mean…’ Marie hesitated. Indecipherable emotions slid across her face – she had always been so hard to read – before she masked them with a half-hearted attempt at a smile. Forever the fearless one. Always trying to make her twin feel better. ‘We have to be good. Brave. We’re together, that’s the main thing.’
‘Might they split us up? Who are they? Don’t let them take me away.’
‘I won’t,’ Marie said firmly. ‘Cross my heart.’ But Leah still looked terrified until Marie curved her little finger into a hood and offered it to her twin.
‘A pinkie promise can’t be broke
Or you’ll disappear in a puff of smoke
This is my vow to you,
I’ll keep my promise through and through.’
‘See, it’ll be fine!’ Carly took a deep breath to steady her voice. ‘Marie’s right.’ She glanced at Marie. ‘We’ll treat it like a game. A mystery. We’re good at solving those, aren’t we?’ It wasn’t too long ago they’d created invisible ink. If only lemon juice could help them now. ‘Let’s make a plan.’ She crunched over the broken glass and perched on the mattress. It was filthy but safer than the floor. She patted the space either side of her. The twins huddled against her. ‘Right. I don’t know who took us, or why, but there’s two of them. Doc—’
‘A doctor?’ Leah asked.
‘No, but I call him that because of his boots, and Moustache is the other one. They haven’t hurt us yet so I don’t think they will.’ Carly crossed her fingers behind her back.
‘Look.’ Leah pointed with a shaky finger. On the wall, in jet black aerosol, the words, You’re going to die.
‘That isn’t aimed at us,’ Carly said. ‘Look how many other things have been written.’
‘Run.’ Leah read another.
‘I meant names and stuff. It’s vandals. Some of the kids at school have been here. Nobody is going to die.’
Think.
They fell silent.
Think.
Suddenly it came to her.
A plan.
‘Marie, we need you to pretend to be ill.’
‘Why?’ asked Marie.
‘Because you’re the best at acting.’ Marie had a confidence Carly could only wish for. Last Christmas she’d played Annie. Mum had styled her red hair into a mass of ringlets and she’d stood centre stage, belting out ‘Tomorrow’ without a hint of self-consciousness.
‘I know I’m the best. Acting is easy. You just pretend. I meant why should I look ill?’
‘That way I can call the men and they’ll think you’re really sick. If they’re worried you might die they’ll have to take you to hospital. There’ll be police there.’ Carly thought but she didn’t know. There were always policeman chatting up the nurses on Casualty.
‘No,’ said Marie. ‘It’s better we stay together. Besides, they won’t hurt us.’ She tried to form it as a statement. Carly knew she was trying to reassure Leah but there was still a tinge of doubt to her voice. This was the first time in her eight years Marie had caught a glimpse of how harsh the world could be and Carly didn’t blame her for not wanting to accept it. ‘They didn’t mean to scare us, did they, Carly?’ Marie raised her eyebrows and tilted her head towards her twin.
‘Of course not, but—’ Carly began.
‘There you go, then. I won’t leave Leah.’ She linked her fingers through her sister’s. ‘Or you,’ she added as she caught sight of the expression on Carly’s face.
‘Marie—’
‘No, Carly! Besides, they wouldn’t believe it if I was suddenly ill.’
‘It wouldn’t be much of a stretch.’ Carly gestured to the piles of rubbish littering the graffiti-daubed room. ‘It’s filthy here – there’ll be germs crawling all over the place, probably enough to kill us.’ Carly shuddered.
‘We could die of germs?’ Terror was thick in Leah’s voice. Her eyes rapidly scoured the floor as if searching for germs scurrying around.
‘Not really.’ Carly wished she could take back her words. Leah had a tendency to worry about everything.
‘Nobody’s going to die,’ Marie said. ‘It’s a game. That’s all. Pretend. We stay quiet and don’t make a fuss and we’ll be home before we know it. Right, Carly?’
‘Right.’ Carly tried to lift her mouth into a smile but she couldn’t. In truth she didn’t know if they’d ever go home, and even if they did, the thought of what they might have to endure between now and then was utterly horrifying.
Carly felt sick. Dizzy. The lump on her head throbbing.
Think.
She was all out of ideas and worse than that, her bladder was uncomfortably full. Again, her eyes travelled across the room, hopefully looking for a toilet.
‘I need to wee.’ She stood.
‘Are you going to knock on the door and ask?’ Marie said.
‘Don’t go out there without us, Carly,’ Leah begged.
‘I’m not. I’ll…’ She was hot with humiliation. ‘I’ll go over there, by the corner. You two face the wall.’
The twins did as they were told. Carly’s fingers reluctantly hitched up her skirt and dragged down her pants. At first she couldn’t go, too scared the men would come in and see her exposed. She closed her eyes and pictured the waterfall they’d visited a few years ago in Wales. The roar of the water, the surge of the current. Hot splashes splattered her legs as she released a stream of urine.
‘I’ve finished,’ she said quietly.
‘It stinks of wee now,’ Leah said.
‘It stank of wee anyway.’ Carly was horribly embarrassed. She needed to find something to soak it up with. Careful to avoid the broken glass, she crouched down beside the pile of rubbish. There was a large cardboard box she could tear apart. Carly pulled it towards her, expecting it to be light and empty. Instead it was heavy and full. Sealed with brown tape.
Carly felt dread settle heavily in her stomach before she’d even opened the box.
Before she had seen what was inside.
She somehow knew it would be bad.
Very bad.
Chapter Twelve
George
Now
George closes his eyes momentarily. He can’t concentrate on his breakfast meeting. Has no appetite for the full English in front of him despite the bacon being crispy and the egg yolks sunshine-yellow and runny, just the way he likes them. Guilt has eradicated his appetite. No room for food in his churning stomach.