Page 84 of The Taskmaster

“Stacey used to live here. Stacey Reed. Do you remember?” I pleaded, and from the irritation on her face, I knew she did, but she didn’t want to talk to me.

“Oh. That Stacey,” she remarked, sniffing like I was a bad smell lingering on her doorstep. “She left a few weeks ago. Moved to another residence across the country.”

“But she didn’t tell me.” I glanced at the floor, feeling the sting of disappointment as I moved my foot from the doorway.

“Maybe you weren’t as good friends as you thought you were,” the woman snapped, and as she moved and went to closethe door, I noticed Stacey’s school bag and coat hanging at the bottom of the stairs.

“Wait!” I called out, but it was too late. The door had been slammed in my face, and even when I started to knock again, she didn’t answer.

“Dammit.” I turned and walked back down the path, stopping to glance up at the building, and as I did, I noticed the net curtain in the window of one of the bedrooms upstairs moved, and a sick dread filled my stomach.

That was Stacey up there. They were keeping her locked up.

I knew trying to get in through the front door was useless, but there was a backyard. Maybe I could get in that way, sneak into the house and get to Stacey.

I walked to the alleyway that ran along the back of the houses and ducked down it, running until I came to the gate for the children’s home. I tried to push it open, but it was locked.

I did a quick scan of the alley and saw a wheelie bin a few metres away. I ran down to it, dragged it up to the fence running around the perimeter of the home, and I climbed on it, using it to lift myself up and over the fence.

I didn’t make the most graceful landing. I tumbled onto the grass, tearing a hole in my school skirt and staining my knees with dirt. But I got up, dusted myself off and ran across the unkept lawn towards the side of the house.

I reached the back door and tried the handle, but that was locked too.

What was my next move?

What should I do?

There were bricks on the floor. I wondered whether I should pick one up and smash the glass.

I was pondering my predicament, trying to devise a plan, when I heard voices coming from inside the house.

I started to run back towards the garden. I had to find a hiding place. Standing at the side of the house, I was exposed, and I didn’t want to get caught trespassing.

But it was too late.

“What the bloody hell...” I turned and saw the woman from the front door with another lady, striding towards me as I stood like an idiot in the middle of the garden.

I didn’t know what to do, and my legs had stopped working.

Fight or flight turned into a stunned state of frozen shock.

“Who’s this?” the other woman asked.

“She just knocked on the front door, asking for Stacey.” Then she turned to glare at me. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

I shook my head, words failing me as I gasped and spluttered. But when they grabbed my arms and started to pull me forcefully towards the house, I started to shout, “No. Please. Let me go.” The sick feeling inside me had turned to complete and utter dread.

“You’re a little fighter, aren’t you,” the front door lady snarled, and I hissed as their bony fingers dug into my arms.

“Let me go,” I shouted. But they weren’t listening.

“Let’s not take her upstairs,” front door woman said, and she gestured to a wooden door, like a trap door, that was on the ground, just beside the house.

“Good idea,” the other one remarked with a hint of evil in her tone. “I think he’ll like this one.”

I struggled in their grasp, trying to break free, and they both cursed me for it, as one of them shouted, “Doris, come and help us open the hatch.”

Another woman appeared from the house, coming straight for us and leaning down to open the hatch.