Page 68 of The House Swap

He had one hand behind his back, she realised.

His smile widened slightly as she reached the final step.

The cellar was smaller than she expected, with three stone walls lined with wooden racks, each one filled with rows of neatly labelled bottles. There was a table too she could see, with a radio on it and a couple of wine glasses. A low beam ran across the ceiling, and the bare lightbulb added a sinister muted glow.

Down here, the air was cold, damp and a little suffocating.

Ian stepped closer, his hand still hidden, and Poppy took an involuntary step back, bumping into Sue, who was still right behind her.

She heard the woman laugh; high-pitched and echoey. It sounded almost eerie in the small space.

‘Steady up, darling,’ she said, her hands landing on Poppy’s arms.

‘Sorry,’ Poppy apologised instinctively.

‘The floor is a little uneven down here. We don’t want you having any kind of accident. I keep telling Ian we really should do something about it.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘So, what do you think of my husband’s cellar?’ she asked. ‘He’s turned it into his little playroom. I suppose it keeps him out of my way, though.’

‘Not bad for a hobby, eh?’ Ian added.

Poppy forced a smile, the coil inside her stomach knotting a little bit tighter. ‘It’s impressive,’ she managed.

‘This is where he likes to keep his favourite things,’ Sue laughed. ‘He’s such a hobbyist.’

Poppy’s mind was spiralling and she was struggling to breathe properly. A sliver of cold slid down her spine.

Ahead of her, Ian shifted his weight, and he started to bring the hand he had hidden his back, forward.

For a split second, something caught the light. A glint of silver.

Poppy’s stomach dropped. Her mind going to the worst possible scenarios.

Knife. Handcuffs. Or worse.

‘We thought you might like it down here,’ Sue told her proudly, as Ian took another step closer.

‘Come on,’ he said gently. ‘Let me show you everything properly.’

Finally, Poppy snapped, as every instinct in her body screamed danger. Without thinking, she spun around and shoved past Sue on the stairs.

‘Poppy—?’

She didn’t stop, her shoulder slamming into the wall as she scrambled back up the staircase, two steps at a time. As she burst through the door into the hallway, her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear anything else.

Behind her, Sue was shouting something. But she didn’t turn around. Instead, she ran for the front door.

Her boots. She needed her boots. Her bag too.

She snatched them up, yanked the door open and stumbled outside into the cold night air.

‘Poppy! Come back!’ Sue’s voice called from inside the house.

Poppy didn’t answer. Instead, she ran down the gravel track, not even considering how painful it was on her bare feet.

There was only one thought on her mind.