The Retreat(93)

Megan put her hands up. ‘No. I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that now to save your skin.’

‘Megan, please.’ Lily tried to get up from the wet grass but Jake put a strong hand on her shoulder, keeping her down.

Megan said, ‘Put the gag back on her.’

Jake grabbed her roughly and pulled the gag back into place, tightening it at the back and pulling it against the edges of her mouth. It hurt. She tried to grab at it but Jake held her arms, trapping them behind her. She thought she was going to wet herself. She wanted her mummy and daddy. Why had she left the riverbank? She should have stayed with them. Even if they didn’t love each other any more, they loved her. They would protect her. She tried to fight back tears but it was impossible. They rolled down her face and her nose filled with snot, making it even harder to breathe. She sniffed it back, her body shaking, barely able to see through her tears.

‘Stop snivelling,’ Megan said.

Megan was carrying a rucksack, which she opened. She pulled out a length of brown rope that she tossed to the ground. Then she fished out a pair of handcuffs.

‘I got these from my mum’s bedroom,’ she said, snapping them over Lily’s wrists behind her. ‘Jake, put her against the tree.’

They wrapped the rope several times around her and the tree trunk. Jake pulled it tight. She heard him grunt with effort.

‘Have you done the knots properly?’ Megan asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Are you sure? She won’t escape?’

‘They taught us at school. Mr James said I’m really good at it. He gave me a star.’

The little silver handcuffs dug into Lily’s bum. She really felt like she was going to wet herself, but she fought to hold it, and to stay calm. There was no such thing as the Widow. Someone would find her and save her and then Megan and Jake would be in so much trouble. They’d probably go to prison and it would serve them right.

‘Maybe we should wait,’ Jake said. ‘Won’t the Widow come when it’s dark?’

Megan glared at him as if he were the stupidest person on earth. ‘Do you want to be here when she comes? She might take one of us instead. She might take all of us! I think she’ll come as soon as she smells Lily. It says in Folk Tales and Urban Myths that she can smell child meat from a mile away.’

Jake looked around nervously, probably imagining the Widow hiding in the trees, sniffing the air.

Lily tried to speak, but the gag stopped her.

Megan stepped towards her. ‘I don’t think she’ll hurt you. You won’t feel much . . .’

‘Grandad said it’s agony, when she sucks your soul—’

‘Shut up, Jake.’ Megan touched Lily’s arm. ‘I’ll always remember you, Lily. I’m sorry it had to be you. But Grandad said in the old days the townsfolk would always sacrifice the newcomer. The outsider. It’s tradition.’

In that moment, Lily hated Megan. She burned with it. A line Lily had heard in a film played in her head. ‘You’re going to pay for this.’ If it wasn’t for the gag she would have spat the line into Megan’s face, but all she could do was glare – glare until Megan turned away.

And then she and Jake were heading back along the path, walking quickly. Megan looked back over her shoulder once before they vanished into the trees.

Lily couldn’t hold back any longer. She peed herself, and more tears came. She was cold and her wrists hurt and so did her mouth. And she was scared, so scared. She didn’t believe in the Widow – she really, really didn’t – but what about animals? Rats and foxes and bats. And snakes . . . None of the snakes in Wales were poisonous but she had an image of one slithering up her leg and . . .

She had to shake the image away.

She waited. There was nothing else she could do. Mum and Dad would be looking for her. She guessed they’d search all along the river first. Oh God, if they thought she’d fallen in, maybe they wouldn’t look any further. But there were dog walkers, weren’t there? Someone would come by. Surely.

She said a silent prayer and dipped her head, closing her eyes. When she next opened them the sun was dipping behind the trees. She must have passed out for a while. Dusk was falling.

She would be stuck here, in the woods, at night. In the dark. And all the animals would come out.

She chewed at the gag, trying to dislodge it or tear it, but it was so tight. She rubbed the back of her head against the tree, hoping she might be able to wear down the knot, or loosen the gag. It was no good.

And then she heard a noise. She jerked her head up. Suddenly, she forgot that bears and wolves didn’t live in this country any more. She imagined them circling her, sniffing her out, gathering the courage to come closer.

The trees across the path rustled.

A face peeked out from among the branches.

Lily screamed against the gag as the figure emerged from the trees. She had long black hair and a white face and was wearing a long dress, the kind women wore in the olden days. She looked left and right then crossed the path.

The Red Widow. She was real. She was actually real.

Lily passed out.



When she came to, Lily was lying on a mattress on the floor.

The Widow was sitting by her feet.

Lily screamed and the Widow didn’t seem to mind. ‘These walls are soundproofed,’ she said. ‘My father built them so no one would hear me down here.’