by R. J. Parker
She positioned the kettle under it and let it fill. She held it up and examined the water through the glass. There were no particles, but she still didn’t trust the colour. Could the water be drugged and would boiling it make any difference? She poured it away and let it fill a second time. The brown wasn’t as vivid this time. She repeated the process a few times until it was clear and then switched it on.
She watched the kettle glow blue as it started to grumble. Electricity, water, what about heating? She touched the duplicate radiator on the wall. It was cold to the touch. Would it work? The rooms seemed to be warming up now the sun was out though, plus she had on a navy sweatshirt, jeans and socks. Maisie was in a red and green striped jumper and dungarees. The clothes were the same as in their real wardrobes but brand new. Despite their surreal circumstances, however, Lily knew she had to keep things as normal for Maisie as she could. If that was possible.
Again, her mind repeated the same circuits. Was she missing something? Did she have to look further into her past to explain why this was being done to them? But she couldn’t recall any slight she might have committed against anybody that would have engendered the sort of hatred to fuel this sort of campaign. What about Laurie Campbell, the man she’d dated once who’d lost his wife in a car accident? She recalled his flinching expression when she’d politely refused his request to see her again. Paulette had said he was stalker material, but it seemed unlikely he could have developed an attachment to Lily if he’d only spent a handful of hours with her in a bar.
She kept coming back to Ewan and, the ironic thing was, she could hear his voice dismissing her suspicions. But she couldn’t think of anyone else who could harbour the sort of animosity required to inflict torment in this way. But Ewan’s world revolved around Maisie. That was why she couldn’t fathom why he’d withdrawn affection from his daughter. Did he really want to spare himself the pain of reminding himself of the family he’d forfeited? He’d never admitted blame after what had happened. But they both knew that their daughter’s transformation from the bright girl they’d brought up to the shy introvert she was now was a result of the slow burn of acrimony that came to a head and exposed her to it so completely that one awful day.
Lily went to where Maisie’s copied picture had been fixed and opened the fridge door. The shelves were full of the food she usually had in – eggs, broccoli, carrots, bananas, Cokes, string cheese and a multipack of the mini yoghurts Maisie loved – plus a large carton of milk was tucked in the door. She took it out and placed it on top. There was a greaseproof paper package on the bottom shelf and when she unwrapped it found some bacon inside. There was no label on it or the plastic milk carton. No clue as to where any of the provisions had been bought.
She opened the freezer drawers and found their favourite brands – chicken nuggets, lasagne, Swedish meatballs, potato waffles and fishfingers. Had the boxes been tampered with? She examined their seals. If they had they’d been glued back in place. She replaced them and tried not to consider that there was enough food to last them a good few weeks.
‘I’m still not hungry.’ Maisie was hovering beside her.
‘We have to eat.’ That was the truth. Whatever had been provided for them was their only option.
Lily closed the freezer, carried the milk to the kitchen table and then grabbed the cornflakes from the cupboard. It was a full packet. She found corresponding yellow bowls in their customary place inside the china cabinet and set them on the table before looking up at the camera. Doubtless, he was watching them. Would he release them sooner if they did as they were told or did he plan to keep them imprisoned regardless? There had to be another way out of their prison, but she would go along with what he said in the meantime.
‘I don’t want anything,’ Maisie grumbled.
‘Just sit.’ Lily went to the drawer to get some spoons and noted the sharp knives were all present. With those and the tools in the other drawer she had enough weapons to defend them. But she got the impression that he’d already made allowances for any moves she would make.
How long must he have been watching and researching them and setting this up? Had he scoured for locations which had the exact layout of her home or had this been constructed inside a larger space? She poured out the cornflakes into the two bowls and opened the milk, sniffing it first. It smelt fresh but she paused the carton over the first bowl. She sensed him watching her, waiting for her to continue.
She put it to her lips, hesitated and then took a little against them. She lowered the carton, tasted the tiny drop there with her tongue. It seemed OK. She swigged a little more and swilled the trickle around her mouth. Why would he poison them if he’d gone to all this trouble? But again, she considered that he could drug any of the groceries he’d provided and wouldn’t have to worry about her trying to defend them with a knife.
Lily poured the milk into one bowl. ‘OK, if you’re not hungry, I’ll eat.’ She tried to imbue the statement with a degree of irritation to mask the fact that she wanted to try the food first.
Lily sat at the table and Maisie squeaked out a chair and seated herself as well.
Lily peered into the bowl at the cornflakes getting soggy from the milk. What if they were drugged and she passed out leaving Maisie at the mercy of their captor? But she certainly didn’t expect Maisie to try them first and they had to eat sooner or later. She glanced at the camera.
He knew that. There was no choice.
She stood, took both the bowls from the table and tipped them in the identical swing bin by the kitchen dresser.
‘What are you doing?’ Maisie regarded her uneasily.
‘I don’t fancy them. Let’s have some eggs.’
‘But I don’t like eggs.’
‘You like pancakes.’
‘That’s not eggs.’
Damn. That was a fact she’d withheld from Maisie. She wouldn’t touch fried, scrambled, poached or boiled because she knew eggs were baby chickens, so Lily had taken to making pancakes to make sure she got her protein and had kept the key ingredient a secret.
Maisie frowned hard and her head followed Lily’s return to the refrigerator.
She opened the door and took out the box of eggs. She carried them to the hob and opened it, examining each one carefully. How could he tamper with these?
‘What are you doing?’ Maisie asked warily.
‘Just making sure they’re fresh.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me there were eggs in pancakes?’
‘You didn’t ask me if there were.’ But Lily knew that wouldn’t work.
‘I wouldn’t have eaten them if I’d known that,’ she lamented
Lily turned on the hob. ‘But you love pancakes.’
Maisie didn’t reply.
‘And what about cake? You like that.’
‘That hasn’t got eggs in it.’
‘It most certainly has.’ She may as well know the whole truth. Lily put some oil into the pristine pan resting in its usual position on the back-right ring and sparked it up. So they had gas as well.
‘I won’t eat those, even if you make them into pancakes,’ Maisie stated flatly.
Lily cracked two eggs into the pan. ‘I’m having some, so you’ll have to as well. It’s all that’s for breakfast.’
‘I saw fishfingers in the freezer.’
‘They’re not for now, you’re having eggs.’ It seemed ludicrous having such a familiar argument.
‘I don’t want them.’
‘Just eat what I give you!’ Lily took a breath. It was the second time she’d lost her temper. She rarely shouted at Maisie and, when she did, she always felt a little sick. Maisie wasn’t naughty, never behaved as badly as Julie Medlocke’s twin boys. But she had an aversion to eggs. Just like Lily had when she was a girl. ‘I’m sorry.’
Maisie turned away from her.
‘I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to shout.’ Lily could see her daughter’s body tense and knew the tears were about to flow. ‘You’
re obviously hungry. You need to eat. We both do. That’s why I lost my temper.’
‘Why can’t I have cornflakes?’
‘They’re stale.’
Maisie wailed. ‘I want to be in our real home!’
Lily crossed the room and put her arms around her, felt the sobs in her shoulders as they racked her body. ‘I’m sorry. That was my fault. Ssshhh.’
‘Why … don’t we … call Daddy?’ Her little chest pumped out the words.
‘We don’t need to do that.’
‘I want … to … see … him.’
‘I’m here to look after you.’ Lily felt her own tears start to burn but clenched her eyes against them. ‘It’s going to be OK. I promise you.’
‘But we can’t … get … out.’
‘We’ll find a way. Ssshhh.’
‘I’m scared.’
So was Lily. But it was at that moment that she knew she had to be an even better mother than all the times she’d guided her daughter around the edges of Ewan’s self-destructive behaviour. Lily glared up at the camera positioned over the door. ‘We’re going to get out of here,’ she whispered.
Lily held Maisie and comforted her until her crying had subsided and her erratic breathing began to slow down. ‘You and I are going to be a team.’
‘We are a … team.’
‘But better than that. We’re going to be a super team from now on.’
‘Can I sleep in your bed tonight?’
Lily could hear the fear in her voice. ‘Of course. We’ll have a pyjama party.’
‘Yes.’ She nodded.
Lily swallowed her emotions. Would they still be here by evening or would the intruder be in touch to let her know exactly what he wanted? But judging by what he’d said to her on the phone and all the well-stocked shelves she got the impression that he was in no hurry to answer that question.
A loud beeping interrupted her thoughts.
She released Maisie and looked upwards. It was a smoke alarm, just like hers. The eggs were burning in the pan. She darted over to the hob and slid the pan off the heat. Fumes filled the kitchen. She instinctively grabbed a tea towel from its customary sucker hook and waved it up at the detector.
Maisie was on her feet, watching and coughing.
The alarm stopped, but when Lily ceased waving the towel it started again. She couldn’t open a window. ‘The extractor.’ She thought out loud and easily located the switch in the hood over the hob. It started buzzing and sucking out the fumes.
Maisie kept coughing.
‘Just give it a minute.’ But it suddenly struck Lily that if there were a more serious fire, there was no escape.
No window to open, no door out of there.
Chapter 17
While they waited for the smoke to clear Lily led Maisie to her bedroom and tried to distract her. ‘OK. Gather whatever things you want, and we’ll carry them over to my room. No reason why we can’t have a pyjama party now.’
‘But we’ve only just got up,’ Maisie pointed out.
‘Does it matter? We can put our pyjamas on over our clothes so we can keep warm.’
Maisie beamed and appeared to like that idea.
‘What toys d’you want to bring over to my room?’
Maisie put her hands on her hips and surveyed her toyboxes. ‘I don’t want any of these.’
Lily wondered if it was because her daughter knew that none of the toys were the ones she’d played with before.
Maisie turned and walked out.
‘OK, I’ll bring your PJs and we’ll get cosy on the bed,’ she said breezily.
In Lily’s room they pulled their nightwear on over their clothes, and Maisie slipped under the double duvet and pulled it up to her chin.
Lily remembered the kettle had boiled. ‘Wait, I fancy some coffee. Just going to grab some first.’ The truth was, she already felt exhausted and didn’t want to fall asleep.
‘I’m coming with you,’ Maisie exclaimed and leapt out of the bed.
‘OK.’ Lily thought Maisie was clearly scared to be left alone and let her accompany her back to the kitchen. ‘You want anything?’
Maisie shook her head emphatically.
She quickly made herself some instant coffee. It was a new jar and the seal hadn’t been broken. Could she trust it though? Lily had it black. She picked up the yellow mug and checked the window. No sign of movement amongst the rubble.
Maisie stood on tiptoes to see over the sink. ‘Anybody?’
‘No. Let’s take five.’ She surreptitiously slipped a paring knife into her robe pocket as they left. She looked up at the camera above the kitchen door and hoped he saw her do it.
They returned to the bedroom and Lily closed the door before they both got onto the mattress.
Maisie slid under the cover again and put her head on Lily’s left breast. ‘I can hear your heart beating fast.’
‘It’s because the smoke alarm made me jump,’ Lily mitigated. She gently stroked Maisie’s head and hoped that might slow it down. Did they really have to spend a night in this weird facsimile home and would either of them be able to sleep with the prospect of the intruder gaining access at any moment? He would have to get in through the sealed lounge or front door though, so surely she would hear him.
Recriminations that Lily had been trying to hold at bay kicked in. How could she have allowed this to happen to Maisie? She’d let them be taken. The intruder had audaciously walked into their garden and demonstrated that he was deliberately targeting them by wearing Maisie’s face.
That had been a warning she should have reacted to more fiercely. She should have taken Maisie away. Stayed somewhere else. But nobody would have believed that locking all the internal doors, as she had, wouldn’t have kept them safe. Nobody could have conceived of waking in a place like this.
‘Why don’t you want Daddy to help us?’
Lily considered how to answer. ‘I do.’
‘Doesn’t he care about us anymore?’
‘Of course he does. I’ve tried to phone him already. And Auntie Julie and Auntie Paulette.’
‘What about the policeman?’
‘I can’t get through to anyone.’ It was pointless withholding the truth from her.
‘Why?’
Lily shook her head. ‘Whoever wants us here has done something to my phone.’ She took it out and checked. No coverage. The only thing that had been working was the security app and when she scrolled through the various cameras they were still all black.
‘Is the scary man going to hurt us now?’
Lily swallowed silently. ‘No. I won’t allow that.’ She spread her fingers protectively over Maisie’s head.
‘You’re only saying that,’ Maisie said offhandedly.
Lily stiffened. ‘No, I’m not,’ she replied categorically. ‘Nobody will be able to harm the super team.’
‘You haven’t always been able to stop me from being hurt.’
‘I got my share of bumps and scrapes in the playground,’ Lily comforted.
‘At home, I mean.’
Lily briefly closed her eyes. She knew which occasion Maisie was referring to – when she’d been arguing with Ewan and Maisie’s arm had been jerked in the struggle. She’d torn a muscle but she so easily could have broken it. That was the last time she’d allowed Ewan in the house. ‘That was an accident, Maisie. This is different.’
‘How?’
‘Because I’m going to be on guard every second.’
Maisie didn’t reply.
Lily tried not to let the exchange upset her. ‘That was Daddy, this is different.’
Maisie nodded once.
Was she really defending herself against someone different? But Ewan had been sacked from his teaching job because of his alcoholism. He was penniless when he’d left for Dundee. But maybe he’d got the money from his wealthy brother.
Christian hated her for insisting on full custody and had told her so in his last phone call to her. It seemed so fant
astical, but as she gazed around the room at the fixtures and fittings that had been recreated so faithfully, Lily couldn’t dismiss the only men she could think of who might revel in her suffering.
Chapter 18
Half an hour later Lily had cajoled Maisie into painting her nails with grown-ups’ varnish, and while her daughter was absorbed she got up off the bed and wandered casually around the room. She’d assumed that the only ways in were through the front and lounge doors but, if the apartment had been created within another space, could there be other entrances to allow him easy access? She wanted to make doubly sure that he couldn’t enter the bedroom if they’d barricaded themselves inside.
Glancing up at the camera first she pretended to be studying the bookshelf. She took a paperback off. It was her copy of Confederacy of Dunces resting in its customary position along the tops of the others because she’d run out of space and deposited it there some years ago. She flicked through it but it wasn’t hers. It looked to be second-hand and, although it was the right edition and the pages were aged yellow, Lily knew it wasn’t the book she’d read.
Whoever had imprisoned them must have sought out every book here and carefully collated them. She ran her eyes along their spines but, although they were all in place, Lily’s instincts said they didn’t belong to her. Why was that? She supposed that was how Maisie had felt about her toys. An overriding sensation that a history of personal interaction was missing.
Lily carefully examined the wall beside the shelf for any slits in the mauve painted wallpaper. She moved to the next bookshelf and analysed the wall there. Nothing. Lily completed a circuit of the room until she was back at the first bookshelf and her attention settled on her photo albums. Lily had so many images of Maisie on her phone and was always promising herself to download and print off the best ones. However, she never found time to get around to it and felt guilty that there weren’t more recent pictures of her framed on the walls.
