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“Go fuck yourself,” is my articulate response. “Sideways,” I add.
“Interesting concept.” That cocky grin never wavers. “I can take it from here, Moses. Thanks.”
Moses salutes and lumbers off with the rest of the thugs, leaving me to glare at this sardonic stranger.
“So, are you going to fight me?” he enquires mildly. “It would be pointless, but you’re welcome to try. I should tell you, Jack seems particularly keen that you not be hurt. Naturally, I’d like to oblige him, but I have other shit to do. I can’t be messing about out here with you all day.”
“Don’t let me hold you up,” I mumble.
“Fair enough. I won’t.” He takes my elbow and shoves me in the direction of the Land Rover. His grip isn’t rough, but it is firm.
I see no sense in putting up a struggle since I have no doubt he means what he says. He’s twice my size. I’d lose.
“Good decision.”
Is he a mind reader?He settles me in the vehicle, then hops in the driver’s side. Moments later, we’re pulling up in front of the house.
I gaze balefully at the imposing facade. It really is an elegant prison. I should be more grateful.
He makes no move to exit the vehicle. He’s too busy tapping away on his phone.
“Well?” I demand.
“Won’t be long now.” His face gives nothing away. “Would you like a mint?” He produces a small tube of those mints with a hole in and offers it to me.
Bemused, I take one. “What are we waiting for?”
“Actually, I have no idea. I just follow orders.”
We lapse into silence, only broken a couple of minutes later by the distant hum of a helicopter.
“Ah, that’ll be Jack now.” He gets out, then comes around to open my door.
I ignore his offer of help again. “I can manage for myself, thanks.”
He shrugs, and we stand side by side to watch the arrival of the helicopter. It circles once, then descends gently to the ground, landing in the centre of the front lawn. I assume this is the one I’ve been hearing so regularly during my captivity. There’s clearly a lot of coming and going.
I squint into the sun and recognise Jack seated next to the pilot. There are two other occupants, women. I don’t recognise either of them.
Jack hops out and jogs across the grass. He nods to the man at my side. “Thanks, Tony.” He holds out his hand to me. “Come on.”
I take a step back, shaking my head. “I don’t want to go…”
“You don’t even know where we’re going.”
“I don’t care. I’m not—”
“Cambridge,” he announces. “And we need to hurry.”
My jaw drops as the implications fall into place.
Cambridge. Home!
“Really?”
He inclines his chin. “Really. The hospice phoned. You need to come now.”
My sudden rush of elation crumbles. “Oh God…” I stumble forward. “Is it my mum? Is she…”
