Gently, Pip pushed the slatted door of the cupboard, opening it just a few inches. She glanced around her, looking for something, something small, to test it out. Her eyes landed on the plug for the vacuum cleaner, its long wire wound around the machine. That would do. Pip unwound some of the cable, to give herself some slack, ready to reel it back in and close the cupboard door if Max reacted at all.
She threw the plug out of the cupboard, towards the living room. It clattered, bounding three times against the floorboards before it reached the end of its wired leash.
Nothing.
Max didn’t stir at all, lying deadly still on the sofa.
He was out.
Pip pulled the vacuum plug back in, the plastic hissing loudly against the floor, and still Max didn’t move. She rewound the wire and then left her cupboard, closing it behind her.
She knew he was out, but she trod carefully anyway, creeping one foot in front of the other, towards the large rug, towards the sofa, towards him. As she neared, she could now see his face, cheek crushed up against the hard end of the couch, his breaths deep and whistling. At least he was breathing, that was good.
Pip approached the coffee table, the hairs rising up the back of her neck. She felt like he was watching her somehow, even though his eyelids were heavy and closed, the beginnings of a bruise around one. He looked helpless, lying there behind her, his face almost child-like, innocent. People always looked innocent when they slept; pure, removed from the world and its wrongs. But Max was not innocent, not even close. How many girls had he looked at like this, laid out helpless before him? Had he ever felt guilty, like Pip almost did now? No, he hadn’t; he was a taker, through and through. Born wrong, bred wrong, it didn’t matter which.
And Pip knew, as her eyes trailed away from him, that this wasn’t just about her own survival; she knew herself well enough by now. Had reckoned with that dark place in her mind long enough.
This was also revenge.
This town wasn’t big enough for the both of them. This world wasn’t. One of them had to go, and Pip was going to give one hell of a fight.
She reached forward, wrapping her gloved fingers around Max’s phone. It illuminated as she picked it up, telling her that it was 9:19 p.m. now, and she better hurry.
The symbol at the top told her that the battery had at least half of its charge left. Good, that should be enough.
Pip stepped away from Max, behind the sofa. She flicked the side button to switch his phone on to silent and then she bent to her knees, removing her rucksack. She reached inside and retrieved one of the small, clear sandwich bags, swapping it with the empty baggie from her pocket and the roll of duct tape.
She opened the sandwich bag and dropped Max’s phone inside, sealing the top after it. She straightened up, her knees clicking at her, and turned towards the front door. She left her rucksack behind her on the floor; she wasn’t finished here yet, she’d be back in a minute. But first she needed to hand off Max’s phone to Jamie and Connor.
She passed a sideboard in the hallway, a wooden bowl on top with a collection of coins and keys. Pip rifled through until she found an Audi keyring and pulled it free. These must have been Max’s car keys, the house keys attached too. Pip would need these as well.
Keys in one hand, bagged-up phone in the other, Pip pulled open the Hastingses’ front door and stepped outside into the cool evening, shutting the door gently behind her. She walked down the front path, glancing quickly at the duct-taped cameras. She could see them, but they couldn’t see her.
Down Tudor Lane, to the dark waiting shape of Jamie’s car.
The passenger-side door opened and Nat poked her head out.
‘All OK?’ she asked, and the relief in her eyes was evident.
‘Y-yeah, fine,’ Pip said, taken aback. ‘What are you still doing here, Nat? You were supposed to leave straight after, go to your brother’s house to establish an alibi.’
‘I wasn’t going to leave you alone in there with him,’ Nat said firmly. ‘Not until I knew you were safe.’
Pip nodded. She understood. Even though she wouldn’t have been alone – Jamie and Connor were right here – she understood.
‘All good?’ Connor asked her from the back seat.
‘Yeah, he’s out,’ said Pip.
‘Sorry I had to hit him.’ Nat looked up at her. ‘He was trying to push me out and shut the door, and I could still see you there behind him, so I just –’
‘No, that’s fine,’ Pip cut across her. ‘Might actually work out for the better, even.’