I hear another thud – but the lock is holding for now. And the guard will still have to push the bed out of the way.
Almost sobbing with frustration, I’m about to pull my head back in from the freezing air when something startles the sheep and they run to the edge of the field.
Then I see what has made them bolt. There’s a man on elbows and knees inching his way across the field. My eyes dart to his left. There’s another of them. What the hell is happening?
I stare, transfixed. Suddenly my eyes dart to the right. I saw something. I’m sure a figure slithered over the drystone wall, his head hardly raised. And now there’s another. They’re wearing helmets, and they have something clasped close to their chests.
Guns.
Every inch of my skin prickles.
I realise that I am standing, backlit by the light from Millie’s room, with a sheet hanging from the window like a huge white flag. I quickly pull it back in as the bodies creep closer, signalling to each other.
One of them looks up. He puts his finger to his lips.
88
The guard has stopped throwing himself at the door, and I hear Shona’s voice: ‘We’re coming in. Keep Millie away from the door – we’re going to shoot the lock off. Do you understand?’
Shit!
I jump back down and drag Millie across the room so we’re standing flat against the wall on the same side of the room as the door. I don’t reply, hoping it will give us a little longer.
The next voice I hear is a man’s. ‘If you’re behind the door, don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you.’
There’s a shot, and a chunk of plaster clatters to the floor from the opposite wall. The door rattles and opens a crack. Millie squeals and buries her head in my side. I pull her tight. I can’t pretend, even to her, that this is okay.
Slowly, with the weight of a bulky man behind it, the bed begins to move, inch by inch.
I lift Millie and run to the far end the bed. I don’t think he’ll shoot again now he’s smashed the lock. I lie down with her on the floor, wedging my body against the end of the bed, hoping I can slow his progress.
Millie is whimpering softly, her whole body shaking, and I pull her tighter.
‘They’re not going to get us, Millie – I won’t let them.’ But all I have to defend us with is a pathetic sock full of marbles.
I lift my head and cast my eyes around the room, looking for another weapon, but I can see that the gap between the door and the wall is getting wider despite everything I’m doing.
A meaty hand snakes around the door, grasping the wood, pushing, and I know that he’ll be inside in seconds, but I don’t know what I can do other than hold Millie as close as I can.
He grunts as he tries to force his way into the room, but then the night is split in two by an ear-shattering cacophony – yelling, shouting, the clatter of heavy boots on stairs, the slamming of a door against the wall. So much noise it’s hard to make out all the words. But I get the ones that count.
‘Armed police! Get on the floor. Now! Drop your weapon.’
Then I hear the voice that I had believed was that of a friend.
‘Don’t shoot,’ Shona screams. ‘Please – I’m pregnant.’
89
I have no idea what’s happening on the other side of the door. There’s been lots of shouting, but no shots fired. Shona hasn’t spoken since she delivered the startling news that she’s pregnant. If, of course, she’s telling the truth.
I haven’t got time to think about that. I just need to help Millie, who is shaking with terror. We’re still on the floor, and I’m scared to get up.
Then I hear a voice: ‘This is the police. Can you open the door, please? You’re safe now.’
All I can think is that I’ve heard this before – a fake policeman assuring me that my daughter will be fine. I don’t trust them. I don’t trust anyone.
‘Shh, shh, baby,’ I whisper to Millie. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
I hate those words, always spoken so glibly when evidently it’s far from the truth. But they spring automatically to my lips.
I think of the men I saw coming towards the house. What if they’re from some rival gang? What if they’ve come for Shona – retribution for the man she’d had killed? What if they’re not police at all?
I say nothing, and I don’t move the bed away from the door.
The man on the other side keeps trying to persuade me, but I’m not ready to trust him.
90
Tom and Becky were waiting at the end of the lane, beyond the outer cordon set by the bronze commander of the armed response unit, when they heard the gunshot. Then they heard shouting, but now they could hear nothing. Tom held his breath, hoping and praying that no one was hurt.
The sound of his radio springing to life shattered the silence.
‘Sir, the property is now secure, two people arrested. But we have a situation here. There’s someone inside the room with the child – we believe it’s her mother. We can force the door, but we’re worried about the child on the other side.’
‘We’re coming in.’
Tom pushed the radio into his pocket as he and Becky set off at a jog down the lane towards the door. A firearms officer, weapon across his chest, his finger close to the trigger, stood guard.
‘Upstairs, sir.’
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a woman in handcuffs was being escorted down. From the photographs they had already seen, Tom knew the woman was Ruth Vickery, and he could sense Becky’s eyes were on her. ‘I met her the day I took Jo home, masquerading as Shona, a helpful friend.’
They waited for her to pass, and Tom saw Becky glance into the open archway to the kitchen.
‘Jesus,’ she muttered.
He didn’t have time to ask what she meant as the stairs were now clear. They hurried up and approached the open door of a large bedroom. Tom could see an officer bending low by a door on the far side of the room, speaking through a hole where there once must have been a lock. There was no sound from the other side. The officer stood and nodded to Tom, who crouched by the door.
‘My name is Detective Chief Inspector Tom Douglas. We know Millie’s not alone in there, and all we want to do is keep you both safe. Can you tell me your name?’
For a moment there was no response. Then a voice called tentatively, ‘Tom?’
‘Jo! We thought it must be you. Becky’s here with me too.’
He turned and nodded to Becky.
‘It’s okay to come out now, Jo. No one can hurt you, I promise. Shona is in custody. Can you let us in?’
They heard a whisper from behind the door and the sound of a child crying.
‘Shh, sweetheart. They’re going to help us. It’s safe, I promise. Trust me, Millie.’
How the child would ever trust anyone again, Tom didn’t know, but they needed to get her away from here so she could start to heal.
He heard the sound of something being dragged across the floor and waited. A few moments later, the door opened.
A pale-faced Jo was standing holding Millie. The little girl’s legs were wrapped around her mummy’s waist, arms around her neck.