Chapter Thirteen
Joanna
Ihear movement outside the door. I look at the clock. It's seven fifteen p.m.
He's late. I step away from the door as instructed and wait. The door opens a crack.
‘Are you standing back?’ he asks.
‘Yes.’
He's dressed entirely in black. A black jumper, black jeans and a black balaclava.
All I can see are his eyes, which are a warm brown.
I look into them, trying to gauge if they are kind or evil.
I can't tell. His lips belong to a young person.
His body is well-muscled, suggesting he works out regularly at the gym.
He's holding a plastic tray. On it is a bread roll and a foil dish of something hot. It smells like fish. There's another jug of water and two boxes of tablets: one of paracetamol and another of ibuprofen. He tells me to move farther back and places the tray on the table.
‘Fish pie,’ he says. ‘I got two lots of painkillers. I didn't know which you preferred.’
I don’t answer.
He then places a photo – the photo of Joel that I keep in my handbag – on the table beside the tray, and I feel sure my heart stops.
‘What have you done—’ I begin, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
‘I thought you’d like it, is all.’
I want to say thank you, but I can’t bring myself to. ‘Why are you doing this?’ I ask, ashamed that my voice shakes. ‘You know you won't get away with it.’
He gives a half-shrug and backs away, his eyes not leaving mine. He pushes the key into the lock, pulls open the door and then he's gone.
I ignore the fish pie and sugar-free jelly dessert, and swallow three painkillers. My relief that he showed no sign of planning to sexually abuse me has me falling to my knees, sobbing.
Surely, the police will find me soon?
The lingering smell of the fish pie makes me realise I'm hungry. At first, I fiercely wanted to leave it and make a dramatic show of starving myself. But I know that won't help Joel, so I wolf down the pie. Afterwards, I see that it was purchased from Waitrose. At least he has good taste.
A while later, the headache begins to ease, and I decide to make another search of the room in case I missed something the first time.
By the time it gets to nine p.m., I'm exhausted. I clean my teeth, almost mechanically. There's no mirror, so I can’t see how I look. I wash my face with the soap provided, climb into the bed fully clothed and clutching the photo of Joel, lie awake, staring around me until the lights go off, plunging me into total darkness. At that point, I fight back my panic. Not a chink of light from anywhere. My body stiffens. I’ve always hated complete darkness.
Danny has always tolerated me having a small night light in our bedroom.
I take several deep breaths to calm myself.
Just as my eyes are becoming adjusted to the darkness, I notice a tiny green light twinkling in the corner of the room.
I stare at it tensely for a few seconds.
Is it a secret camera? Is he watching me?
Whatever it is, the light calms me, but I'm determined not to sleep.
I want to be awake in case he comes back…
But sleep eventually overtakes me, and before I know it, I'm woken by the lights coming on.