She Came to Stay by Eleni Kyriacou

Author:Eleni Kyriacou [Kyriacou, Eleni]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, General, Women, Family & Relationships, Friendship
ISBN: 9781529337686
Google: mlXYDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2020-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

When I woke, I was on the floor, hands tied behind my back and something tight around my mouth. There was an itch at my cheek – wool carpet? At home there was lino. An ache drilled deep into my bones and I twisted to try to take in my surroundings.

Next to my head, the carpet’s crimson and silver pattern changed from flowers to feathers then grasping hands, all in time with the fitful smack of my heart.

Under the bed sat two shiny black brogues, as fat and wicked as cockroaches. I closed my eyes for a second and when I opened them again, I was sure they’d crept towards me, heel-toe, heel-toe. On the floor to my left was a metal ashtray; in that, a pyramid of cigarette butts. Next to it, a crushed packet, red and white. I stared at the box. Craven ‘A’s. How could something so familiar be in a place like this? Come on, just get out. I struggled to sit up but fell back down. I pulled at my wrists, trying to loosen the knot, but when I shifted my weight my left shoulder ripped deep inside, and the hungry red mouth of the carpet rushed up to kiss me.

I don’t know how long I lay there, slipping in and out of consciousness. Every time I opened my eyes, I teased the knot a bit more while the night gradually ate all the light. I tried not to panic; I hated the dark but at least the gag wasn’t too tight, I told myself. At least I could still breathe. I shivered and realised my skirt was bunched up around my waist, my legs exposed.

Digging my heels into the carpet, I moved myself around, till my foot hit a wall. Slowly, I shuffled against it and managed to sit up. The pulse in my ears knocked out two words, over and over: get out, get out. With my back against the wall I was able to look around the room. Sloping ceiling – an attic. Voices in the street below and a car. Could I still be in Soho? Still close to home? Every so often a shaft of light sliced through the room and illuminated objects in turn: a thin pillow, a chrome desk lamp, a doorknob. My eyes darted from one to the other, drinking them in, trying to understand how they fitted together and how I fitted with them, all the time tugging at the knot behind my back. I could hear my breathing as it became heavier, and I felt consumed by the night. Come on, stay calm, slow shallow breaths.

Another beam of light slid slowly across the room. It must be traffic struggling through the fog. Look, there was a wardrobe. And a table, and a sink in the corner. A wide beam, softer than the rest, crossed the room and then stopped on a patch of shiny brown wall. I could hear the familiar thump of an engine.

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