A variation in the noise brought her back to wakefulness, a rattle that wasn’t there before. There was a rolling clatter that swelled with each wave.

The tide was coming in.

She wanted to sit up and look down into the depths of the cavern but it was beyond her. Lying on the hard stone her limbs and muscles had stiffened and she simply didn’t have the strength in mind or body to fight the pain. She lay quietly, barely breathing.

How high would the water rise?

During the last hours death had seemed a tempting thought, but now it was inconceivable that she should simply lie and wait for it. No matter how bitter, life is sweet and the least she must do was to try to survive. She gritted her teeth and with a bark of pain managed to swing her legs around. After almost toppling from the ledge she desperately shuffled her behind backwards and dragged her feet up. Now that her knees were bent the pull on her arms was eased. Spots of sunshine shone through holes in the rocks above her and lit the wall in tiny smears of gold and she was able to peer down into the void.

Swirls of light and dark rushed to and fro across the bottom of the cave. Small boulders and pebbles rolled and played in the waves and filled the air with another layer of sound. The echo of the sea amongst the cliffs was louder now and she realised that when it was no longer possible to hear the pebbles it would be because they were submerged beneath the water. There was no weed inside where she was and she didn’t know whether that was because of the lack of light or because the tide would fill the space, scouring it clean and snuffing out what was left of her. Terror rippled through her, she didn’t want to drown here in the dark. Tears tracked down her face and a great sob sounded out into the void.

Near to her head was a tiny hollow in the dark wall and she shuffled closer. Leaning against the surface of the rock she slid her face towards the indentation and stuck out her tongue. She tasted sweet water. The relief was overwhelming. It was rainwater seepage from the rocks above. So, did this mean that she would not drown? If the water were not salt then surely it was because the tide didn’t reach this far. It must do, surely. With agonising slowness she leaned lower until her lips touched the cold puddle and she sucked the gritty nectar into her damaged mouth and though it was only enough to wet her lips and tongue it was bliss. She shuffled further along the ledge, yes, another dip, another small drink and then another. In her excitement she almost toppled into the depths and she stopped and took some deep breaths to calm herself. In the depths of despair and fear she was amazed to feel the stretch of a smile on her face. A small victory, a tiny triumph and as she licked the walls of her prison she found a new resolve to endure.

No-one would search for her. He had taken her coat and bag and hidden them in the dunes and so when Dolly came for their morning coffee she would assume that she had gone for a walk. He had made no obvious mess in the house it didn’t seem and so there was nothing to raise the alarm. He would return though; when he had done whatever had taken him away today he would come back and berate her again and bully and try to make her confess. She must find a way to convince him that she had no diamonds and no computer memory stick. But then like a dark worm the thought uncoiled: what would he do when he realised that she was, in truth, of no use to him at all?

Chapter 22

To drive back the terror Pauline had to hold onto a belief in her future. If she accepted that death was inevitable then surely the best and quickest thing to do was to throw herself from the ledge to drown in the swirling water. But no; this wasn’t an option. She knew that she would relive this horrible event for the rest of her life always, supposing there was to be more life for her. If, when she thought of it, she saw herself as a snivelling coward, then it would torment her and so she resolved to endure and tried to think; to plan.

The rainwater soothed her mouth and throat. The dripping soothed her nerves because while there was dripping she would be able to drink. Each little pool and hollow filled quickly and she blessed the inclement weather of the last few days.

Her wrists were raw, the skin torn and enflamed with rope burns. She had pulled and twisted at the ties but it only brought more pain. She had coiled and stretched her aching limbs every way that she could in an attempt to loosen the rope around her ankles, but in her confined position on the ledge and with the insults already paid to her body she had to acknowledge finally that she couldn’t escape the bonds.

In books and films there would be sharpness in the rocks. She would saw the ropes until the strands gave way and she would be free. But this place that she was in had been smoothed by eons of tides. The rocks were rounded. She had shuffled back and forth along the ridge but had found nothing rough enough. It was difficult to find a position where the rope was taught and she could still move. Nevertheless, endless minutes had been spent simply rubbing the rope along the edges of the rock, surely it would wear through. Rock, rope, hope; a desperate triumvirate. Yet rope held.

The gold smudges of sunlight moved across the walls. Pauline watched with exhausted eyes as the day rolled around. No-one found her and though there would be families and couples on the beach they were a lifetime away.

When he came, he came quietly and suddenly. An alteration in the atmosphere told her that she was no longer alone. For a breathless moment she hoped for salvation but in the event it was the return of horror.

He had brought a torch this time and she was blind as the beam flashed onto her face.

“Still here then?” He gave a short grunt of a laugh as he clambered up beside her.

There was no answer for her to make and so she gave none. She had glanced at him once but now turned her face away.

“Well, Pauline.” He sat in the damp with his legs swinging out into nothingness. Tiny scraps of rock and shutters of sand cascaded into the water of a slack tide. She stored the information away: he had come now and so even when the tide was high there was a way onto the promontory. He leaned towards her and murmured as to a friend in the cinema. A private tête à tête in the darkness.

“I popped back to the house. I haven’t found my bag yet. You hid it well; I’ll give you that. Then I got to thinking. Ah yes, I thought, I know what she’s done, my friend Pauline. She’s stashed it away from here.”

She shook her head once.

“Anyway, no matter. I’ve been to see my clients again. Now to say that they are not happy doesn’t even begin to cover it. They are very, very cross. Uh-huh.” His head bounced up and down, a comedy routine, bizarre and terrifying. “Trouble is you see, they are cross with you. Well I’m cross with you as well, aren’t I? The bigger problem though Pauline is that they are not happy with me and that is not what we want. When these people are disturbed it can end badly and one thing I can tell you is that I’m not going to let that happen to me.

“So, what are we going to do?”

Her hopeless monologue murmured through the darkening cave. “I haven’t got anything. I truly haven’t. Don’t you think that if I did I would tell you by now? I don’t know what you are talking about. I found you by the side of the road, I tried to help you. I didn’t take anything. I lied about who I was because I didn’t want my husband to find me.”

“Well now that really does give us a problem doesn’t it? Somebody has my stuff. Now who was there? Oh yes, there was you and… ah you see: there was just you.” He twisted towards her and grabbed her face and she yelped in surprise and pain. “I will give you one last chance. You tell me where the stuff is hidden or you will never get out of this cave. Do you understand?” She nodded mutely, tears streamed down her face.