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  He gave Mary a tug, and opened the car door.

  ‘Come on, kid, get moving.’

  Mary had been cramped up for so long it was a hard job to move at all. Pins and needles prickled her legs, so that she hobbled and nearly fell as he dragged her out. The fresh air in the backyard smelt good after the stuffy car. She turned her head, trying desperately to see just a little. Her eyes watered with the strain. Were those dark shapes houses? If they were houses then they’d have people inside them. People who might help her.

  She filled her lungs with air. What if she screamed for help at the top of her voice and then tried to run for it?

  But the knife man was still holding on to her. He pulled her close to him, the knife at her back now. The bulky money bag bumped against her legs.

  ‘No funny business, kid, do you hear? One squeak out of you and you’ll get it.’

  Mary nodded silently, knowing she’d better do as he said. The man pulled her over towards the shadow of the house. She didn’t know which way to go and the pins and needles were still hurting her legs. She stumbled and he shook her impatiently.

  ‘Walk properly!’

  Mary’s eyes stung. He was so mean and cruel and unfair. She wanted to shout all sorts of things at him but she didn’t dare, not with the knife at her back.

  He pulled her along until they came to some steps with a railing. Mary froze, terrified of tripping again.

  ‘Move it!’

  Mary moved, and very nearly fell headlong. The steps didn’t go up as she’d expected. They went down. She couldn’t understand it. If you were on the ground then steps always went up, didn’t they? But these definitely went down to a dank cold little landing. The man fiddled with the keys and then pushed her inside.

  Mary’s boots squeaked on the floor. She must be in a kitchen. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of sour dishcloths and unemptied rubbish.

  ‘What a tip,’ the man muttered, and he pushed Mary through the first room and into a second.

  He left her where she was while he went and swished the curtains, closing them all. Then there was a click from a corner of the room and a sudden burst of talking, making her start. He’d obviously switched on the television.

  ‘Out the way, kid, you’re in front of the screen.’

  Mary ducked first to one side, then the other, not knowing where to go. She tripped over some sort of footstool and fell on her hands and knees. The man laughed as if she’d done something funny.

  ‘Blind as a bat!’

  Mary stifled a sob. She sat where she was, not daring to move any more. She heard the man opening a cupboard door and then a little hiss as he opened a can of drink. The television blared uncomfortably loudly.

  ‘Oh fine, make yourself at home,’ said the other man, coming into the room. ‘What you closed the curtains for? It’s broad daylight.’

  ‘Exactly. We don’t want anyone peering down into your mucky little dungeon and spotting the kid, do we? How often do you clean this dump, Micky? It’s filthy. And that smell, it’s turning my stomach.’

  ‘Oh pardon me I’m sure. I wasn’t expecting to do any entertaining. I see you’ve helped yourself to a drink already.’

  ‘Yeah, and you can get us some food too, I’m starving.’

  ‘I thought you felt sick? I blooming well do. And switch that television off, I’ve got a headache.’

  ‘I want to catch the news. We might be on it.’

  ‘Are you mad? You’re sounding as if you’re enjoying all this!’

  ‘Well, why not? We got the money, didn’t we? Look at it all. And we got away with it too.’

  ‘We got away with the kid.’ He came closer and bent down right in front of Mary. She still couldn’t see his face properly. She didn’t dare try to focus in case he’d notice. She kept her eyes deliberately vague, swivelling from side to side. Tears were still dribbling down her cheeks.

  ‘Look at her! It’s all right, pet, we’ll be letting you go home to your mummy very soon.’

  Mary thought of Mum and cried harder.

  ‘Can’t you stop the kid snivelling? It’s getting on my nerves,’ said the knife man. He was rustling paper, muttering, counting. ‘We got away with quite a bundle, Micky. More than we hoped for. And yet… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem so much when you think of the risks we took.’

  ‘Yeah, quite! So maybe we should cool it for a bit.’

  ‘Or maybe… maybe we should go for the big time number. Start talking in thousands. Maybe a hundred thousand, maybe even more.’

  ‘What you on about? You flipped your lid with all the excitement?’ said Micky, coming back to Mary. ‘Here, kid. Like crisps? Have some of these. Can you feed yourself or do you want me to do it for you?’

  ‘I can do it,’ Mary whispered, marvelling at his stupidity. But at least he wasn’t as nasty as the other one.

  ‘Give us some crisps, Micky. And anything else you’ve got. I tell you I’m starving. And I’m not off my head. I reckon we’re on to a sure thing. We’ll ransom the kid.’

  Mary choked on a crisp. The hard edge scratched her throat. She sat still with her mouth full of softening salty crisps, barely able to swallow.

  ‘You are mad! Look, mate, I’m not getting into any kidnapping game, I’m telling you. I’m strictly for the small-time.’

  ‘But we’re big-time now whether you like it or not,’ said the knife man, springing across the room to turn the television up again. ‘Look!’

  Mary couldn’t look but she could listen.

  ‘A disturbing news item has just come in about a post office robbery in Kingston, in which the two robbers abducted a little blind girl. We’ll hope to have more on that story in our next bulletin,’ said the television announcer.

  ‘Oh no!’ said Micky. ‘You idiot, I knew taking the kid was a mistake. Look at us now. Right on the main news!’

  ‘You’d be banged up in the local nick right this minute if we hadn’t taken the kid.’

  ‘Yeah, well, maybe that would have been better than this. They’ll have half the coppers in the country out after us. We’d better let the kid go now, Bob.’

  ‘Oh yeah? And how you going to do that, eh? Escort her down the road and wave bye-bye to her outside the local cop shop?’

  ‘Well, of course not. But we could… we could take her out in the car somewhere –’

  ‘When the whole manor’s buzzing with cops? Very sensible.’

  ‘Yeah well, maybe tonight then, after dark…’

  ‘Think they’ll let up then? They’ll nab us as soon as we’re down the street, and you know it. I reckon the kid will be headline news by the next bulletin, specially as she’s blind. They’ll have a description of her. She’ll be dynamite.’

  ‘So what the hell are we going to do?’ said Micky, his voice high with panic.

  Mary surreptitiously spat out her soggy mouthful of crisps, and waited.

  ‘I’m telling you. We’ll keep her. Make no move for several days, so that her parents get nice and desperate. And then we’ll make contact and ask for the money. Big money.’

  Several days! Mary thought in agony.

  ‘She’s just an ordinary kid. It’s not like she’s a millionaire’s kid. You’re off your head, man. How can they ever raise that sort of cash?’

  ‘That’s their problem. They’ve got a house, haven’t they? So they can think about flogging it. Hey, kid, what sort of house do you live in?’

  Mary shook her head, not knowing what to say.

  ‘Is it a big house?’ Micky asked more gently.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Mary.

  ‘And what does your dad do for a living, eh?’

  ‘He goes out to business,’ Mary whispered.

  ‘There, a businessman! Maybe he’s one of these city types, worth a fortune,’ said the knife man triumphantly.

  ‘But what if he isn’t? What if they can’t get the cash?’ Micky asked.

  ‘Then they can’t get the kid back, can they?’ said the knife man.