Part 72 (1/2)

'What are you doing?'

'Sorry, I'm just a bit stressed,' she says, rubbing her forehead.

He nods and walks over to the door to the hall and pulls the handle, but the powerful spring-loaded mechanism has locked the door. There's no key in the hole. Adrenalin floods his body as he hears her approach from behind. He yanks at the door but it doesn't move a millimetre.

'I just want you to do as I say,' Nelly explains.

'Well, I'm not thinking of going down into some f.u.c.king-'

Erik can't understand what's happening, but something hits him hard across the back and all the air goes out of him as his forehead hits the door. He stumbles sideways. It feels like he's got cramp in his left shoulder, then realises that warm liquid is running down his back.

He looks down and sees splashes of blood in the filth on the linoleum floor, turns to face Nelly and realises that she has. .h.i.t him with a lump of wood, which is now lying on the floor by her feet.

'Sorry, Erik,' she all but laughs. 'I didn't mean ...'

'Nelly?' he gasps. 'You hurt me.'

'Yes, I know, it's not easy, but I'm helping you. Nothing to worry about,' she says.

'I didn't do what they're saying about me,' he tries to explain.

'Didn't you?'

He moves sideways then turns back towards Nelly again, and sees that she's picked up a heavy crowbar from the worktop.

'Don't you understand ...? I'm innocent!'

Erik backs away and b.u.mps into the table, on top of which is a full was.h.i.+ng-up bowl. The dirty water slops over the side and splashes on to the floor.

Nelly moves quickly towards him and strikes. He blocks the blow with his lower arm, it hurts so much he almost pa.s.ses out, and he stumbles backwards into the pale blue door of the pantry.

She swings again but misses his head. Splinters fly from the edge of the door. He lurches to the side and manages to knock over a tray of empty jam-jars. They roll across the worktop and fall to the floor, scattering shards of broken gla.s.s.

'Nelly, stop it!' he gasps.

His arm is probably broken, he's having to support it with his other hand.

Nelly has a look of intense concentration on her face as she pursues him. He throws his head back and she turns her body and strikes again. The crowbar misses his face and brushes past the tip of his nose. The back of his head hits an open cupboard door. He tries to get away but puts his foot down on a piece of broken gla.s.s just as she lashes out again.

He blocks the powerful blow with his broken arm and shrieks with pain. His vision goes black for a moment and his legs give way. Erik falls to his knees. He stares at the filthy floor and the blood running down his injured arm.

'Stop, just stop,' he pleads, and tries to get up, but the next blow hits him on the temple.

His head is knocked sideways. Everything goes quiet inside him, as though he had simply come to a stop.

He fumbles for support with his hand.

His field of vision contracts to a narrow tunnel, he sees the kitchen shrink as Nelly leans forward and smiles at him.

Erik tries to stand up. He realises he must have trodden on more gla.s.s, because he feels the pain like a distant itch, far away, under his foot, down in the ground somewhere.

He falls backwards, rolls on to his side, and lies there panting with his cheek against the floor.

'Oh, G.o.d ...'

'And the just, upright man is laughed to scorn,' she mutters. 'But ask now the beasts ...'

Through his limited field of vision he sees Nelly open the door to the cellar and stick a wedge under it with her foot.

He smells her perfume as she bends over, takes hold of him under his arms and drags him across the floor. He's completely powerless, his feet just hang limp, leaving a trail of blood across the floor.

'Don't do it,' Erik pants.

She pulls him towards the staircase, he tries to cling on to a cupboard but can't hold on. Blood is trickling over his cheek and down his throat and neck. He tries to grab hold of the door frame but is too weak to resist.

Nelly walks backwards down the stairs, dragging him into the darkness. His feet fall heavily with each step.

He can barely see anything, just feels the pain shooting from his arm with each step down. Far above he can make out the glow of the torch. Then he loses consciousness.

125.

When Erik opens his eyes in the darkness he notices the stench of old excrement and far gone decay. His right arm is excruciatingly painful and his head is throbbing with pain.

He can't see anything, and a scorching wave of panic crumbles his thoughts, scattering them across the flaring darkness. He can't understand what's happened, and his entire body feels tense, wary, ready for flight.

All he really feels like doing is calling for help, but he forces himself to lie still and listen. The room is completely silent.

Occasionally he hears a vague rumbling sound, like wind in a chimney.

He carefully touches his wounded arm and discovers that it's been wrapped in paper.

Erik's heart begins to beat faster.

This is madness, he thinks.

Nelly hit me, seriously hurt me, my arm is probably broken.

When he tries to roll over, he can feel dried blood sticking his hair and cheek to the mattress.

He raises his head and gasps with dizziness. His temple pounds as he forces himself up onto his knees.

The effort makes Erik breathe hard through his nose, and he tries to listen again but can't hear any movement, no sound of breathing apart from his own.

He stares out into the darkness, blinks, but his eyes don't get used to it.

Unless I've gone blind, this room is entirely devoid of light, he thinks.