Page 106 of The House Swap

Realising she didn’t have a choice, she crept towards the van, keeping low, her movements quick but cautious as the gravel crunched softly under her trainers. Her heart was hammering against her ribs as she reached the open doors, and she looked briefly towards the house.

There was no sign of him.

She stepped up into the back of the van. The cluttered space stank of oil and metal. Tools were stacked neatly along one side and compartments were built into the interior holding various bits of equipment, but the floor of the van was a mess.

She spotted the toolbox, but where was the box with the fake smoke detector cameras?

Carefully she moved further back, picking her way slowly, not to trip over the many hazards in the way.

Sound came from outside and she froze, recognising it was footsteps.

Her head snapped back towards the doors – just in time to see them slam shut. Darkness swallowed her and for a second she didn’t move, her brain struggling to catch up to what had just happened.

In the next second, panic hit hard.

‘No!’

She lunged towards the doors, not concerned about being careful this time, the toe of her trainer catching on something heavy and solid, her breath catching even as she grabbed at the handle, yanking it hard.

Nothing. The door didn’t budge.

Her breath came faster now, a hot wave of sickly fear adding to her panic as her hands scrambled, trying the other side, then back again.

It wasn’t locked, she was sure of it, but maybe it didn’t open from the inside.

She had to get out before he drove away.

But even as she had the thought, she heard the driver’s door open, then close. As the engine started, vibration hummed through the metal beneath her feet.

Poppy stumbled, catching herself against the side, as the van began to move.

‘Shit. Shit!’

Her mind raced. She didn’t think he had seen her. He had closed the van doors not realising she was inside. But if he found her when he stopped⁠—

She cut off the thought abruptly, cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach.

Martin had been removing the cameras from the villa. He wouldn’t do that unless he had put them there in the first place. Unless he had known they had stopped working.

If he realised what she knew, what would he do?

The van picked up speed, turning out onto the road, the movement shifting her weight again. She grabbed a wall bracket to steady herself, forcing herself to breathe, conscious that her bag with her phone in was on the side of the road with the groceries, so she couldn’t even call anyone for help.

She couldn’t afford to lose it. Not now. Just think.

He didn’t know he had a passenger. That was to her advantage. For now, she needed to stay quiet.

It wasn’t easy. The drive seemed endless and every turn, every change in speed, every bump in the road, made it harder to stay balanced. She had absolutely no idea where they were going. Although she tried to listen, tried to piece together the direction from the odd sounds she heard, it was impossible.

At one point, the van slowed, coming to a stop, although the engine remained running, and she heard the sound of muffled voices outside. Was Martin getting out?

She glanced frantically at the pile of clutter. Some of it was high enough to hide behind, though he would see her if he got in the back of the van. It was her only option, though, so she quickly stepped across, ducking down instinctively.

There it was, she realised. Right in front of her. The box of fake smoke alarms.

She waited, wondering what was happening, but then, after a few moments they were moving again.

Poppy stayed where she was, not daring to move.