55

‘WHAT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN TO you, Karen?’

This, thinks Karen Curtis, her eyes tightly closed. This is the worst thing that could happen to me.

‘Most people answer that question the same way, had you noticed,’ says the voice that’s tickling her neck. ‘Most people say the worst thing would be to lose someone they love. Would you agree?’

Karen doesn’t reply. As a child, terrified of the dark, she’d keep her head beneath the bedclothes and her eyes tightly closed, as though what she couldn’t see couldn’t hurt her. She’s doing the same thing now. Keeping her eyes closed.

‘Would you agree?’ The voice has hardened now, grown a little impatient.

‘Yes,’ Karen manages, although what she really thinks is that the worst thing that could happen to her right now is for the sharp object at her throat to be pressed closer.

‘You know, it’s only polite to look at someone when they’re talking to you,’ says the voice. ‘I’d feel a lot better if I knew I had your full attention.’

Karen forces her eyes open. She sees the face above hers, the glossy black hair and pale skin and almost closes them again. Instead, she fixes her gaze on a spot of damp on the ceiling. She needs to get that looked at. If she focuses on the damp, on what she’s going to have to do to get it sorted out, nothing can happen to her. Nothing bad can happen to a woman who’s planning home repairs.

‘Who do you love most, Karen?’ she is being asked. The damp might be coming in through the loft. Probably a loose tile on the roof. She’ll have to organize someone to go up there.

‘I asked you a question, Karen.’

‘My son,’ Karen says, and in speaking feels her throat rise up a little closer to the knife. The ceiling may have to be re-plastered. It will be expensive.

‘Oh yes, Thomas. And does he love you? Would it be the worst thing to happen to him, if he lost you?’

Probably not, is the honest response. Karen barely sees Thomas any more. She doubts he gives his mother much thought from one day to the next. The tip of the knife is pressed into her and she can feel her skin break around it.

‘I suppose so,’ she says, as hair brushes against her face. Her captor is leaning closer, getting ready to whisper in her ear again.

‘I lost someone I loved,’ says the voice. ‘Did you know that?’

‘How could I know?’ Karen whimpers. ‘I have no idea who you are.’

Karen hears a deep breath being sucked in and then slowly trickling out again. ‘I loved only one person my whole life and I lost her,’ says the voice. ‘Do you like the zoo, Karen?’

This is insane. She is at the mercy of someone who is completely insane.

‘I like the zoo,’ the voice says, as music begins to play softly, a tune so incongruous that Karen thinks, for a moment, it must be coming from outside. ‘I’m going very soon,’ the voice continues. ‘And I think I might just be taking someone – or should I say, something – with me.’

Karen Curtis had never thought she would die to the sound of Julie Andrews.