Human Remains

course what happened was that the wood splintered and cracked, and from behind the door somewhere I heard wailing and crying, and finally a single, wailing, desperate word rising to a shriek: ‘No!’
    I worked at the door, digging away at the wood, until finally the screwdriver came up against metal, and I dug beneath it and levered, and with a sudden shudder and a bang the door opened.
    Beyond it, darkness, and a staircase leading down.
    ‘Audrey?’ I said.
    A pause, and then a hushed, throaty voice: ‘Who are you?’
    I looked for a light switch – surely there must be one? And then there it was, under a shelf loaded with tubs of dishwasher tablets. I flicked the switch and the staircase illuminated, and from below another shriek.
    I went down the steps, gripping the screwdriver firmly in front of me in case Colin was going to appear from nowhere.
    It was a small room, whitewashed brick, with a window high up on the left wall. The darkness it looked on to suggested that it was buried beneath weeds. There was a table, and an old divan with a mattress, a tea chest, empty boxes – and on the bed, curled into a ball, her face covered with both her hands, a dark-haired girl wearing a short satin skirt.
    I felt a surge of relief. It was her; it was definitely her.
    The room stank.
    ‘My name’s Annabel,’ I said. ‘I’ve come to get you out. Are you OK?’
    ‘Water,’ she said.
    I went back up the stairs to the utility room. There was a butler sink in the utility room and when I ran the tap it rumbled for a second and then cold water splashed into the sink. I left it running and looked for something to hold water. In the pantry, finally, a ceramic vase. It would have to do. I filled it and turned off the tap.
    As I did so, I heard a noise, a sudden bang from the front of the house.
    I froze for a second, then ran back to the pantry, turning off the light, then to the door to the cellar, turning that light off too and coming down the steps blind. He would see the open doors. I’d opened them all over the house, and the one to the cellar was broken open. My only hope was that he’d think we’d escaped already through the back door.
    ‘We’ve got to hide,’ I whispered, my heart already thudding from the exertion of running up and down the steps. I took hold of her upper arm but she shrank away from me, curling into a tight ball.
    ‘I’ve got water,’ I said, ‘come, you’ve got to come!’ I put the vase down by the bottom step, felt for her again in the darkness and half-dragged, half-lifted her down off the bed and into the corner next to the steps. She was whimpering. There was nowhere to hide down here, not really. My only chance was that, if Colin looked down here and didn’t spot us, he would assume we’d gone…
    ‘Shhh,’ I whispered, trying to get her to look at me. ‘You’ve got to be quiet. Please be quiet.’
    There was silence for a moment, broken only by my breathing and Audrey’s. She sounded wheezy. If she coughed, she would give us away.
    Then from upstairs, footsteps and a sudden roar. ‘NO!’
    Colin came crashing through the pantry to the door at the top of the stairs, the light went on and the room flooded with light. I closed my eyes tight at the sudden brightness, and even though Audrey whimpered again I realised he’d turned away almost immediately and a few moments later I could hear him calling from what must have been outside, ‘Where are you? Audrey! Come back!’
    Now what? I couldn’t think straight. Try to get Audrey up the stairs? Try to get through the front door, assuming he hadn’t locked it? He would be back long before then. If he had any sense, he would get himself away from this place quickly.
    I reached for the vase and held it up to Audrey’s face. In the light, despite her eyes still being screwed shut, I could see that she was pretty. Her face was dirty, streaked with grime and tears, her eyes hollow and her skin pale.
    ‘Here,’ I said, ‘drink this – slowly.’ She gulped at it, and I had to hold it away from her, her fingers clutching, fumbling for the vase. ‘No, slowly – you’ll make yourself sick. Just little sips.’
    It was too late to move now: he was back inside. I heard more banging and crashing upstairs, then the floorboards creaking over our heads as he moved through the house. I could hear noises as though he was throwing things about, knocking things over.
    Audrey’s face creased with panic. I felt her fear, her