The Retreat(95)

The worst was having to go to the toilet in a pot. It was gross. But Carys took it away every day and brought the pot back clean, along with a bowl of water for Lily to wash in. She had soap too, and shampoo, though the water was always cold. Her new home was cold, just a little warmth seeping in from the ceiling, which was weird, but Carys gave her blankets to huddle under. Carys brought her books too. Often they were damp and yellowed and Lily suspected they’d come from the tip.

She also brought her toys. A cuddly tiger and a camel, which Lily cuddled at night, their bad smell eventually fading. And one day, like a miracle, Carys brought her a surprise.

Little Cat.

‘I found him the same day I found you,’ Carys said. ‘I’ve been keeping him here, safe. And because you’ve been such a good girl, I’m going to let you keep him.’

Lily clutched the toy. He smelled damp and there was dirt on his fur. Her tears helped wash it away.

Carys put her face close to Lily’s, laying one hand on the cat. ‘But if you’re bad, I’ll take him away and you’ll never see him again. Understand?’

‘I understand.’

Every day, Carys would let Lily out of her little room into the main part of the underground chamber to exercise for an hour. Together, they jogged on the spot, did star jumps, sometimes threw a ball back and forth. Carys always seemed really happy during this hour, grinning at Lily and squealing with excitement. It made Lily wonder if Carys was like Jake, a kid on the inside. She acted like a child in an adult’s body. A child who’d never grown up.

Lily didn’t hate Jake. She only hated Megan. Jake had only done what his sister told him to do. When Lily first met Megan and Jake, she was surprised by how compliant he was, his sweet nature making him want to obey his sister, who took full advantage. Megan had needed Jake’s physical strength to carry out her plan. Oh, how Lily wished she’d stepped in all those times she’d seen Megan bossing her brother around. She should have told Megan to leave him alone. Now it was too late. Too late to stop Megan.

Megan, who’d betrayed her best friend to save her own skin.

Lily thought back over their friendship. When Lily moved here from Manchester, Megan was the first girl who talked to her. Lily had been so relieved to make a new friend that she ignored Megan’s bossiness, her obsession with scary video games and the Widow. She even put up with Megan’s creepy grandad. She could almost laugh about that. It wasn’t Mr Collins she should have been afraid of. It was his granddaughter.

When Lily closed her eyes and thought about Megan, she felt as if black moths were flapping around in her head. Black moths that beat their wings against her skull, that made her squirm and ache.

If she ever got out of here, she decided, she wouldn’t tell anyone that Jake had been involved. It wasn’t his fault, after all. He had simply been following his sister’s orders. Blaming him wouldn’t help to set the moths free.

She would find another way to ensure justice was done.

Six months after Carys had brought her Little Cat, they were exercising when Carys suddenly collapsed, clutching her knee. She lay on the floor, groaning.

‘What’s wrong?’

Carys screwed up her face. ‘I pulled something. Help me up.’

But Lily hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the door she wasn’t allowed through.

‘Come on,’ Carys hissed, trying to get up but falling back.

Lily didn’t stop to think. She pulled the door open and ran through, finding herself in a small room with a wooden chest at its centre. There had to be a way out, surely, but—

Carys lurched into the room, a length of metal pipe in her hand.

‘You little bitch!’ she yelled, and swung the pipe at Lily’s head.

When Lily came to, back in her room, she had a throbbing pain in her head. Worse, Little Cat was gone.

‘I warned you,’ Carys said later, ‘if you were bad, I’d take that cat away. Now he’s somewhere you’ll never find him. And if you try to escape again, you’ll spend the rest of your life in this room.’

She slammed the door.

Lily gave up hope of ever seeing Little Cat again – but then, a few days ago, Carys had appeared with the toy in her hand. Lily jumped up, delighted, until Carys produced a knife. She slashed at the palm of Lily’s hand, making her cry out, then grabbed her wrist and pushed Little Cat against the cut. She held him there for a minute before pulling him away, studying him with a smile before she left the room.



That night, nursing her injured hand, Lily thought back to the longest conversation she’d ever had with Carys. It had happened a few months ago. Carys had come into the little room stinking of something familiar. A smell that reminded Lily of her dad. Alcohol. Carys sat on Lily’s mattress. She seemed tired and sad. She kept scratching at her arms with her sharp nails.

‘Do you miss your mum and dad?’ she asked.

Lily didn’t know how to reply. She thought she might start crying again, until Carys said, ‘I miss my daddy so much. His name was Albert. Albert Patterson. He’s the one who saved me from the Widow.’

Lily waited, knowing Carys was about to tell her a story. The woman stared into the corner, her voice dropping so Lily had to strain to hear her.

‘Daddy said the people who tried to sacrifice me were friends of his. A man and a lady. I remember the lady – she talked to me at the home, told me she had some kittens and did I want to come and see them?