Chapter 50: NOW - The Safe Room

I can’t contain my excitement. I pace the small space, biting my fingernails. He was non-committal, but I think I got through to him.

I wasn’t lying when I spoke to Peter. This really isn’t about escaping right now. Sophie is in pain; I can see that. She hasn’t smiled or spoken or even really reacted all morning. She’s terrified and I’m beginning to think she’s losing hope. This is about giving my daughter what she needs.

It’s also about seeing her, speaking to her, one last time, because I can’t stay in this safe room indefinitely. At some point, I’m not going to be able to breathe. When that happens, I’m dead.

Peter walks leisurely around the house. He makes a cup of tea and drinks it standing up, watching my daughter sitting on the carpet. I see his head tilt to one side. I massage my temples, willing the headache to go away. I need to concentrate but it’s so hard when I haven’t slept properly or eaten well for more than two days.

“Come on,” I mutter. “Please.”

Finally, he places the mug down on the coffee table, reaches for Sophie’s hand and pulls her up off the carpet. Sophie lets out a gasp, but she doesn’t fight him. Tears well up in my eyes. Please let this happen. Please.

They’re walking into the kitchen. My heart flutters. He’s leading her down into the cellar. It soars. There she is, my little girl. I know he won’t open the safe room door, but at least she’ll get to hear my voice.

“Sophie? Sophie are you there?” I call out.

I glance at the camera. Sophie wrestles her way out of Peter’s grip and runs towards the door. A high-pitched wail comes out of her mouth as she hears me, all the bravery finally leaving her body.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. Listen to me, I’m here and I’m watching you and I love you so, so much.

“Mummy!”

“I’m here.”

“Mummy, I don’t understand why you’re in there. Come out. Please!” She beats the door with her tiny fists.

I pull in a deep breath and wipe tears from my eyes. “The door is locked, poppet, otherwise I would come out to see you, I promise. You know I love you, don’t you.”

“Yes.” Hiccupping gulps come out of her as she fights through the tears.

“I promise you that I’m going to figure this out. I promise.” I check the screens to see if Peter is still in the room. He is, lurking at the back of the cellar. “Just be a good girl for now. Everything is going to be okay, all right?”

Through the camera I see her sniff and wipe her eyes. “Why are they here? I don’t understand.” She wraps her arms around her torso and sways from side to side, something I haven’t seen her do since Ed’s funeral.

“It’s hard to explain.” I try to find the words but can’t. “Just remember everything I’ve taught you about how to be strong and brave. Okay? Remember that and be a good girl. I swear I’m going to see you very soon and everything will go back to normal⁠—”

“Right. That’s enough,” Peter says. I hear his footsteps approaching.

“Remember everything I’ve taught you, baby,” I say hurriedly. I press my palm against the door, wishing I could touch her. “Everything.”

I want to tell her exactly what to do. How to find the laptop in my bedroom. Or to try and climb out of a bathroom window. I want to tell her Yvonne is an email or text away. I want to remind her about the emergency services.

I can’t. Peter’s right there and if I try any sort of Hail Mary he’ll lock her down even more.

“Time for you to go upstairs.” I watch through the camera as Peter grabs hold of Sophie’s wrist and half drags her away from the safe room door. “You know she’s alive now.”

The sight of her feet tripping on the concrete makes me ache. She screams all the way up the stairs and into the kitchen. But at least she knows I’m alive now. She knows that there’s hope.