aBuster!a shouts Wesson. aDown.a The dog slinks back. If I turn my head really hard I can just about see him. ah.e.l.lo, Buster.a I smile at the dog.

He smiles back.

aIam really sorry about this,a says Sophia under her breath.

For a nanosecond I feel like telling her life was boring but safe until I met her; now itas exciting but Iave been kidnapped by a madman murderer and his moll. Instead I say: aItas OK, Sophia, Iam sure youad do the same for me a" letas just get through it.a My voice sounds really calm and ordinary, but I donat feel like that a" I feel panicky and screamy and like leaping up in the air and leaving my spine behind.

But thereas nothing I can do.

The road winds into woodland. Beech trees with a thick carpet of fallen leaves stretch away from us. It looks very lonely. It makes me think of the Gravelly sisters in Body in the Waves. They were fed poisonous mushrooms in the woods and then hidden in a wardrobe wrapped in gingham. But I donat say anything to Sophia. I glance across at her. Sheas gone white. The thing about the Gravelly sisters was that they left a crucial letter for Verity Potsdam to find, which is how she discovers their bodies in the gingham wardrobe. I canat write a letter. Instead, I reach into the bag and fumble until I feel the flash-drive that Sophia used to copy the files.

I slip it into the palm of my hand. If I could throw it out of the car I would, but thatas not going to work. Iall have to hide it where I am. It slips into the crack between the seats. It may never be found, but itas possible that it might in years to come be discovered by some mechanic, and then someoneall know. Someoneall know exactly why what happened to us happened. Whether they find the bodies or nota Pinhead pulls into a layby next to a spewing rubbish bin. aOK then, time for a chat,a he says, looking in his mirror.

Wesson turns around and glares at us over the back of the seat. aLetas have the phone for starters,a she says. aWhatave you done with Trevoras phone?a aIn the bag,a I say, nodding at Nedas bag lying on the seat between us. The phoneas sticking out of the top.

aPa.s.s it over,a says Pinhead.

Sophia reaches into the bag and hands the phone over the seat. aHere,a she says quietly.

aAnd the money?a he says over his shoulder.

For a moment I think sheas going to pretend that we never saw the money. But she rummages in her pocket and sprinkles a confetti of mangled bank notes over the seats. aThere,a she says.

aThank you,a says Pinhead. His voice is crisp with fury. He rescues the money and jams it in his jacket pocket. aAnd while weare about it, weall have the bag a" hand it over and Maria can check through it.a Sophia sighs and heaves the bag up on to the seat back. Itas got all the photocopied entries from the diary. I catch her eye and try to smile, but she doesnat seem to see me.

I want to tell her that Iave left a legacy, that the flash drive will survive us. That Iave had a good idea from a book and actually carried it through. But sheas not looking.

Wesson searches the bag and pulls out all the photocopies. aThis is a" this is what?a She waves the papers under Pinheadas nose.

Pinhead sits back, looking through the windscreen. aGive those here. Actually, I think youad better search the girls, Maria. Check their pockets. Iall just take a look at the oil and the tyres.a Something crosses his face; a flicker of irritation that suggests that he didnat want her to know about the papers. And she looks worried, just for an instant. Itas the first time Iave seen them anything other than united.

He climbs out of the car, opens the boot, takes out a small tool box and crouches down by the front wheel. Things clunk against the side of the car and I hear the sound of a pressure gauge. Somehow I didnat have him down as the pressure-gauge type. I imagined he handed a car over to a garage or a hotel and got it back in perfect shape.

Perhaps heas avoiding her.

Maybe he likes her less than she likes him. In Gold Under the Aspidistra, Dana Scour gives up everything for Denzil Johnson who turns out to be a complete scoundrel. The only difference is that I like Dana Scour.

Wesson clambers in with us. Anch.o.r.ed as we are by the cable ties, thereas no point in struggling. Although she looks as if she dislikes it as much as we do she enters into the squirmy business of searching us with her usual speed and efficiency. She starts with me, checking the pockets of my hoodie, my skirt, inside my shoes, and comes up with some chips and a load of hairbands. Sheas far too close, and she smells of aftershave, Pinheadas aftershave. After sheas given up on me, she crawls across the back seat to Sophia, and I hold my breath as her hand rests briefly on the gap between the seats, but the flash drive must be nice and deep because she doesnat find it. Sophia pouts her mouth as if sheas going to spit at Wesson; she doesnat.

Through the window I watch Pinhead take the papers to the verge. He pulls a lighter from his pocket and lights the corner of the first sheet. He burns each one, corner to corner, then stamps the ashes into the gra.s.s. Then he climbs back into the car.

Poo.

aNix, nada,a says Wesson, opening my door and going round to the front of the car.

aThanks, darling.a Pinhead leans across and plants a cold peck on her cheek.

Wesson turns and kisses him back. Properly. I glance at Sophia. Sheas turned to stare out of the window.

aGood,a he says, starting the engine, and the car glides out of the layby. aSwap over at the station?a he says to Wesson.

aYeah.a She looks at her mobile, and plugs it into the little stand by the radio. aYou should make the 9.15. Iall take the cargo to the warehouse and meet up with the boys. Are you sure youall be all right, Trevor?a Pinhead stares straight ahead as we drive out of the woods and the view opens up towards the sea. A long way off, a squall scurries over the water, changing the silver to grey and back again.

aIall be fine,a he says. aDonat you worry. Iall sort it out at the other end a" and Iall meet you on Wednesday.

aWhat about her?a says Wesson.

Again, Pinhead stays quiet. Eventually, he says, aDonat you worry a" thereas nothing to worry about. Everythingas sorted.a We drop Pinhead at a set of traffic lights in a wet town.

He takes a small bag and waves goodbye to Wesson before diving into the railway station. He doesnat look back at us.

Wesson swings the car into a U-turn and we head out of town, slightly too fast.

aWhere are we going?a Sophia asks.

aNever mind a" youall find out soon enough.a We seem to be going south, but Iam not sure any more. Iam not sure about anything any more. I hope this isnat really happening. I hope itas happening to someone else called Lottie Green in a book and that the fictional Lottie Green is going to be able to think of a way out of the situation.

But the doors are locked and my handas attached to the seat in front of me. What can this Lottie Green do?

Wesson pulls on to the motorway and we turn north again.

Irene must have felt this way when she was flying through the fog: no idea where she was or where she was going, but prepared for any eventuality. Perhaps she too looked to books for inspiration. Perhaps she too looked to the story of Richard Standfast in Calm Before the Storm for hope and guidance, remembering how he crash-landed his plane in the desert sands just as she thumped hers down on to a Scottish hillside.

We pa.s.s lorries and vans and cars, Wesson driving faster than I would imagine was safe, and then at the next exit, she pulls off the motorway again. The car leaps as she slams her foot on the brake and then the accelerator. It throws me across my seat, from left to right and back again.

I brace myself for the next bend but it arrives too soon, shooting Nedas bag along the seat and on to the floor.

The dog whimpers and tries to stand.

Wesson hunches closer to the steering wheel as she wrenches it from one side to the other.

Itas a very big, very powerful car, and it slows and speeds on this little road impressively. I canat help feeling that sheas only just in control of it.

The phone rings and, taking one hand from the steering wheel, Wesson grabs it. ah.e.l.lo, love. Yes. Iave got that,a she says.

Thereas a train, a long intercity train crossing underneath us.

aCan you see us? Weare crossing the bridge now,a says Wesson. aYouare near the front? I canat see you.a She peers out over the bridge, concentrating more on the train than the road. aAnd you will be there? As arranged?a The car swings out and back, narrowly missing a cyclist, and only just making it round a big bend in the road. The train runs parallel with us and I look across to see if I can see Pinhead. I somehow doubt head wave at us, but Wesson might wave at him. Her one hand is white on the steering wheel, the other still holding the phone, and I can see that every muscle in her back is tense. aamy swimsuitas packed. Iam missing you already.a This is not good.

The trainas gliding through trees, splitting away from us. And itas faster than we are.

aI can still see you,a says Wesson.

I bring my knees up in front of me and slip my b.u.m down so that Iam curled up and canat really see out of the window. I wish I could bring my hand close and wrap myself in my arms, but itas still tethered to the back of the front seat.

aLove you, miss you a" canat wait.a Wesson makes a long sucky kissing sound. aBye,a she says, looking at the phone.

aSophia,a I say. But I donat get any further because the tyres judder and weare flung from one side to the other.

GREEEEEEAAAAAAAACH!.

I whack into the window, my cheekbone striking the gla.s.s, but before Iave even rubbed it, the world turns upside down.

GREEEEEEAAAAAAAACH!.

It all happens in slow motion a" clothing flying across the car, a dog lead, a bar of chocolate a" and the screech of metal.

GREEEEEEAAAAAAAACH!.

The tyres squeal, someone screams, it could be Sophia. Gla.s.s explodes inwards from the windscreen, bushes bang against my side window then Sophiaas window, then mine again and each time I feel as if my headas going to fall off. We settle upside down and my hand dangles underneath me, my legs apparently attached to the ceiling of the car thanks to the super-efficient seatbelts. Gra.s.s thumps over the roof, mud flies in where the windscreen should be. Thereas more tearing, screaming, revving.

And then silence.

Huge ordinary empty countryside silence.

Birdsong.

Rain falling on leaves.

The train horn sounding in the distance.

I move my head.

Below me, on the ceiling, the dog whimpers. Heas standing on three paws, deep in the gla.s.s that must have been the windscreen. His eyes are wide and dark. Heas holding the fourth leg up to me.

aSaOK, Buster,a I say. But my voice wobbles; I can barely hold it together.

He wags his tail and licks the fourth paw. I canat see anything wrong but heas holding it like heas hurt.

aSophia?a I ask, looking across. Sheas hanging in an awkward position, her body seems to have folded. aSophia?a But she doesnat move.

Buster moans, and rolls over to lie on his side. My head feels as if itas going to explode. I really need to get myself the right way up.

I reach over and unclick my seatbelt that drops me down towards the ceiling of the car, crunching into the gla.s.s and just missing poor Buster. I give him a stroke and I crouch, rubbing my elbow where the cable ties still hold me to the seat back. aDonat worry, fellaaa I start, but I canat speak properly. I can hear the fear in my voice.

I unclip Sophiaas seatbelt and she slides to the ceiling, held upright by the cable tie joined to the door. She moans as she moves, so at least I know sheas alive. Thereas no blood.

Wessonas another matter. Sheas crumpled. Her seatbelt has come undone and sheas wrapped in the tatters of the air bag. She looks like she might be dead. I canat reach her because of the cable ties.

I listen, expecting the sound of sirens, but itas all quiet. The only noise is some distant crows. From my memory of the road, there was no one else around, although in the end, the cyclist would catch up with us. Surely.

Something drips at the front of the car. Although I donat think itas petrol it still makes me feel nervous. I donat know much about cars, but I donat think anything that comes out of an engine is good for you. Now weare upside down, everything that normally relies on gravity to stay put must be free to escape.

I sniff the air. Now I can smell petrol. And I remember that above my head is an enormous petrol tank just waiting to leak all over us.

I swallow and try to think about Irene, in an aeroplane, crashed in the fog.

She did it.

So can I.

I canat reach Wessonas mobile. Itas clipped to a stand in the front of the car about a foot further than my arm goes.

aExcuse me a" Miss Wesson!a I shout but she doesnat answer, doesnat move. aMaria!a Still no response.

I lean down to look out of the windows. Itas not easy to see anything because theyare smeared in mud. I expect the whole caras covered in the stuff and it seems to be surrounded by brambles. I try for the millionth time to pull my hand out of the plastic tie, but I canat move it. Dad says theyare unbreakable.

I look around for anything that might let me reach the phone and my eyes fall on Buster. Heas picking at his paw.

aHave you got a piece of gla.s.s in there?a I ask, scooping him up and holding the damaged foot. Thereas no blood, but I can see a fragment of the square windscreen gla.s.s caught between his toes. I flick at it with my fingernail and it pings out across the car.

aThere a" now letas see if you can stand.a I drop him on to my legs and he tries all four feet before licking my chin and s...o...b..ring over my neck.

aThanks, Buster. Now, do you think you could be useful and get me that mobile phone?a He clambers off my leg and tiptoes through the gla.s.s to Sophia. She groans as he licks her hand.

aBuster?a she says feebly.

He pants and wags his tail.

aSophia a" are you all right?a I ask. She looks very uncomfortable, jammed against the door.

aIam a" OK a" I think,a she says. Her legs stretch out over the gla.s.s and she tries to pull her arm underneath her. aOw a" this hurts.a Her ties, just like mine, have stayed firmly whole.

Buster wanders over to the front of the car. Using his mouth, he grabs Nedas bag and pulls it open, rummaging inside. He pulls back, Nedas survival blanket pinched delicately between his teeth.

aBrilliant, Buster. Great start a" not a phone, but bring it here.a He pads around to me, and wrapping the blanket around my hand, I sweep the gla.s.s to one side. I stroke his head and give him a cold chip from my pocket.

He chews on the chip and shuffles back to the front of the car. After a little rootling, he brings me an umbrella, followed by a glove, a road atlas, a pair of Nedas pants and a packet of mints.

aCan you smell petrol?a says Sophia, suddenly wide awake.

aI can,a I say calmly, offering her a mint. aBut Iam hoping Buster can help to get us out of here. Have another look, Buster, see what else you can bring me.a He brings me the other glove, Pinky and Perky in their box, the egg in a cup, and a car jack.

aNot a mobile, but thatas still fantastic, Buster,a I say, handing him another chip. I weigh the car jack in my hand. Itas very heavy. It must be good for something. I swing it round and smash the rear window. With my foot, I push out the remaining gla.s.s. Buster wriggles out, peers at the brambles and comes back in again. It doesnat do any good, just makes the smell of petrol stronger in the car.

I breathe slowly, and wonder whether petrol is less dangerous when it has more air. Probably not.

Buster smiles at me hopefully as if I might take him for a walk.

aWhat are we going to do, Lottie? The carall blow up.a aDonat worry a" weall find a way out,a I say.

Buster picks up his lead.

aIad love to take you for a walk, Buster, but Iam stuck.a My voice goes up at the end. Iam trying very hard not to cry, but itas going to happen soon, and then I know I wonat be any use. I pull at my wrist and he wags his tail and stands on his hind legs. He picks up the car jack and hands it to me again.

I run my finger along the metal edge and rest it against the tie. Itas rough, but not really sharp. I rub it back and forth pressing it against the plastic of the tie, but after five minutes the cable tie looks untouched while my wrist looks sore.

aItas not going to work, fella. I need some scissors or a knife.a aPinhead has a penknife,a says Sophia. Her voice trembles. aAnd heas on the train. Nedas got one too.a aAre you sure?a I glance at her, hopefully.