The Retreat(98)

A child.

‘Julia,’ I said. ‘I’m not a hundred per cent sure, so don’t freak out, but I think it’s a little girl.’

Julia gasped and put her hands over her mouth. ‘Lily? You think it’s Lily? Oh my God . . .’

She pushed me out of the way and knelt by the keyhole. Her entire body started to shake.

‘It’s her, it’s her.’ Her voice caught on the final word, so it became a sob. She stood up and thumped on the door with both fists while I returned to a crouching position and peered back through the keyhole. ‘Lily! Lily, it’s me, it’s Mummy, I’m here, sweetheart . . .’

Inside the room, the girl in the bed sat up, blinking with confusion, and then she leapt out of the bed, flying towards the door. It was her. It was definitely Lily.

‘Mummy!’ She screamed the word and thumped on the door. Julia was pulling at the handle, rattling it, as if she could pull the door from its hinges.

I grabbed her arm. ‘Julia, Lily’s trying to tell us something.’

Julia fell quiet. Through the door, Lily shouted in a wavering voice. ‘The key. She keeps it in the chest by her bed.’

‘Who’s she, sweetheart?’ Julia asked, her voice thick, just about managing to hold back the tears. It was a testament to her strength. The emotions coursing through her would have overwhelmed most people. But she was holding it together, at least until she got Lily safely out of here.

‘Her name’s Carys,’ Lily said through the door.

I had been right. Of course it was her. The other little girl who’d gone missing all those years ago. Not a little girl any more. And, like a child who is mistreated, or worse, who passes it on to the next generation, Carys was doing exactly what had been done to her. History repeating.

I had many questions for Lily – not least of which was, where was Carys now? – but first we had to get her out of her cell. I ran back into the other room and pulled open the top drawer of the chest. It was full of underwear. Half of this stuff was probably Julia’s, I thought, throwing aside bras and knickers, groping for the key. There was no sign of it.

And then Julia yelled.

I rushed back through the door.

Julia was lying on the floor and the door to Lily’s cell stood open. Blood seeped from a wound on Julia’s temple. Before I could react, something rushed out of the cell, something that let out an unearthly, violent howl. No, not something – someone. Carys. She must have come in through the house, through the steel door we had been unable to pass.

She smashed into me, knocking me off my feet. I sprawled on the hard floor, banging my head on the concrete. The world went white for a moment. When I came to there was a terrible ringing inside my head – it felt like a bell that had been struck by an iron rod – and Carys was gone. I got to my feet, holding my head, wondering briefly if this second injury would do any permanent damage.

The cell was empty. I took in the dirty mattress, the children’s books piled beside it, the bedpan, the stuffed toys. It reminded me of photos I’d seen of the places hostages were kept in the Middle East, albeit a child’s version.

‘Where is she?’

I whirled round. Julia was getting to her feet and looking around.

‘Where is she?’ she screamed.

We heard a thud. It had come from the room where we’d entered this underground apartment. I rushed towards it, Julia following. The chest had been pushed to one side, exposing the hatch. Ignoring a wave of pain and nausea I bent to open it, lowering myself to drop through it, picking up the flashlight we’d left here when we came through a little earlier. Julia went to follow.

‘You should stay here,’ I said. ‘You’re injured.’

‘What? Fuck that.’

‘But Julia—’

From somewhere below us we heard a child’s cry.

‘Hurry up or get out of my way!’

There was no point arguing. I climbed down into the tunnel, Julia right behind me, and ran back the way we’d come. Our footsteps echoed around us, making it hard to hear how far ahead of us Carys and Lily were. What did Carys intend to do to her? I didn’t have time to think about it. I stuck out an arm and stopped Julia, so we could listen.

Lily cried out, ‘Mummy!’

They were just ahead of us. We ran, side by side, around a slight bend, past all the equipment that had been left here to rust. I held the flashlight in front of me, the beam bouncing wildly around the enclosed space. I slowed a little, concentrating on shining the light into the tunnel. And there they were.

Carys must have heard our gaining footsteps as she stopped and turned, realising she couldn’t outrun us, not with a child in tow. She was holding Lily by the wrist. There was something in her other hand, but it was too dark to see.

Julia called Lily’s name and Lily tried to run towards us, but Carys held tight. We had slowed to a walking pace now and were just seven or eight metres away from them.

Carys pulled Lily closer and grabbed hold of her from behind, so they were both facing us.

‘Keep back!’ Carys screeched.

She had black hair and, in the flashlight, was as pale as a vampire. It was hardly surprising: she had spent most of her life underground. I imagined her eyes would be attuned to the gloom, far better than mine were anyway. She was thin too, with bulbous, sunken eyes and a face like a skull. She was repugnant, but I felt terribly sorry for her.