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Saw James. He’s OK. Struggling a little. On way to the hospital.
James. He wouldn’t see her. She thought he was too embarrassed of what he had become in front of his mum. Martin was different; he was softer, more accommodating. She had been to James’s flat once and told him straight out what a disgrace it was, what a disgrace it was for a boy like him to live in filth.
She had not been back, and James had refused to see her. She missed him, but part of her was also relieved. It was too hard to watch.
She put her phone down, and waited.
Maggie
1
She heard the scraping noise. Max was playing on the floor. She picked him up. Pain flared in her left hand. Her eyes watered and she took a deep breath. Every second was agony, her hand like a ball of fire.
It was no surprise given what she had done to it. It was her chance, though, and she would have to put up with it. One way or another it would be over soon.
‘Remember,’ she said. ‘Stay quiet, whatever happens, OK?’
She put him in the bathtub and laid the base over him, then walked over to the mattress. She got under the covers.
She picked up the tinfoil ball – although it was much more than that now – and kept her hands hidden.
The man could not see them. Not until the right moment came.
The door opened and the man came in. His eyes narrowed. ‘Where is he?’
‘Who?’ Maggie said.
‘You know who. The boy.’
‘I don’t know where he is. I don’t feel well.’ She tried to make her voice sound weak and strained, as though she was suffering.
It didn’t take much effort. The pain in her hand was so intense it was hard not to whimper.
The man shut the door. He put the key in the pocket of his chinos.
‘Stop this,’ he said. ‘Give me the boy.’
Maggie groaned and turned on her side. He walked towards her.
‘Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,’ he said. ‘You know what happens when you disobey me.’
She did. She knew all about what happened.
The rapes. The captivity. The darkness. The motorbike helmet. The rat.
The sons, taken and killed.
And in her hands, her throbbing, aching hands, she held the means to end it.
‘I’m not disobeying you,’ she said. ‘I don’t feel well. I really don’t.’
‘God,’ he said, disgust lacing his voice. ‘Don’t you ever learn?’
Maggie shifted so she was facing him.
‘That’s it,’ she said. ‘That’s the problem, right there.’
‘What do you mean?’ he said, confusion creeping into his expression.
