Page 47 of Little Children

He didn’t know how many hours passed between the first and second visit, but when Mister had returned, he’d brought more water and two tablets. Noah had swallowed the tablets while Mister stood over him before checking his mouth. Satisfied the tablets had been swallowed, he’d left the room again. Minutes later, he’d returned with a plastic container on a plate. Steam had risen from what had smelled like some kind of tomato-and-pasta dish.

‘Eat up or I’ll force it down you,’ Mister had said before closing the door behind himself.

Noah had ignored the dish for a few minutes, but the smell of hot food permeating the tiny room had travelled from his nostrils right down into his stomach.

He’d taken a closer look at what appeared to be spaghetti bolognaise, then lifted the plastic fork and taken a bite. He’d smoothed over the gap that had been left, not wanting to give Mister the satisfaction of him doing what he was told. Then he’d looked at the gloopy mess and thought he could probably take another forkful and smooth it back over to make it look untouched.

Four forkfuls later he’d realised that he could no longer hide his appetite and resolved to finish it all but to hang on to the fork. If he had more strength and a weapon, maybe he could escape the next time Mister came in the room.

He’d pushed the plate aside and waited, expecting that the tablets he’d swallowed would make him sleepy. But the drowsiness hadn’t come.

He was still wide awake when the door opened for a third time. The window told him it was night-time, and he hadn’t expected to see Mister again.

The man nodded approvingly at the plate and picked it up. He held out his hand. ‘Fork.’

Noah took the piece of plastic from his pocket and handed it over, trying to still the trembling of his hand.

‘Stand up, Noah,’ Mister said from behind his mask.

Noah could see that a piece of cloth hung from his pocket.

‘Strip to your underpants,’ Mister said calmly.

‘Wh… what?’ Noah asked, feeling a fresh tidal wave of fear.

‘Take everything off except your underpants or I’ll do it for you.’

The voice was neither kind nor unkind. Just firm.

Noah hesitated.

‘I’ll give you to the count of five.’

Noah removed his fleece and his tee shirt. The cold circled his bare skin.

He shivered as he pulled his jeans down to his ankles and stepped out of them. He linked his hands together and held them in front of his body. Despite the underpants, he felt completely naked and terrified of whatever was to come next.

‘Good boy,’ Mister said as he took the blindfold from his pocket and slipped it over Noah’s eyes.

Twenty-Seven

Kim hadn’t expected to return to the home of Roderick Skidmore quite so soon, and she’d hoped to be carrying a warrant when she did. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in a position to carry out a full-scale search on the basis that he’d told her a lie.

He’d been at Coral Island at the exact same time as Lewis and had literally followed him through the door. He hadn’t legally done anything wrong by being in the same area, so why had he felt the need to lie about it?

That was the burning question on her lips as they pulled up at the wooden double gates.

Kim got out and pressed on the intercom.

No answer.

She pressed again, holding her finger on the button for a good ten seconds.

‘H-Hello…’ said a tentative female voice.

‘May we speak with Mr Skidmore?’

‘He’s not here,’ said the voice.