The Doll's House - [11]

Her eyes crept open, clamped shut again, then very slowly opened once more. Weird shapes and lights danced in front of her as her startled retinas scrabbled for some kind of focus.

He was standing over her.

‘Don’t touch me.’

‘Did you sleep well?’

‘No. I bloody froze to death, you stupid freak. I’m going to die down here, is that what you want?’

‘I’ll get you an extra blanket.’

‘Please let me go home.’

‘Get up.’

He barked out this order, his tone suddenly impatient and unfriendly. Ruby realized that she knew nothing about this guy or how his mind worked. Could he turn violent? Could he be reasoned with? Was he insane?

‘Take off your clothes.’

‘Please…’

‘Take off your clothes,’ he repeated, raising his voice.

He wouldn’t look at her. Oddly, his hands were trembling. Ruby tried to speak but her heart was beating too fast, making her breathless and panicky.

‘I don’t want to’ she managed eventually.

‘Do it now or God help me…’

As he took a step towards her, Ruby scrambled off the bed.

‘I’m doing it. I’m doing it.’

Still he wouldn’t look at her. Sobbing quietly, Ruby took off the thin cotton pyjama top that he’d given her in place of her own night gear. She hated the feel and the smell of it, but it kept her from freezing to death. Now she shivered, her naked skin exposed to the cold air. Hesitating, another sob escaping her, she removed her pyjama bottoms, placing them on the bed next to her.

She felt intensely vulnerable, naked in front of a stranger, her gaunt frame illuminated by the overhead lights. She looked ghostly, her pale skin framed by the darkness of her tresses and pubic hair. She stared at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

She could tell he was looking at her now, appraising what he saw. ‘Go to Hell,’ she thought, but her empty bravado did little to cheer her. She was exposed and powerless here.

He stepped forward. Still Ruby stared at the floor. Then another step – he was right by her now. His hand reached out, lifting up her chin. She was looking straight at him, they were virtually nose to nose. His peculiar aroma filled her nostrils once more. She refused to blink, or smile.

His hands rose and Ruby flinched. There was something cold pressing against her stomach. She flicked a glance down. It was the end of a tape measure. He was measuring her.

She tried to stay stock still, but her body was quivering with fear. He measured her hips, her shoulders, her chest. As the cold tape pressed against her nipples, another tear escaped, a sense of rising horror overwhelming her.

He slipped the tape round her neck, pulling it tight.

Then, satisfied, he stepped away.

‘You can get dressed.’

Ruby gathered her pyjamas, tugging them on quickly and clumsily.

‘I have to go out now, but I won’t be long,’ he said, watching her change. ‘And because you’ve been cooperative, I’ve brought you a present.’

He pulled something from his pocket and placed it on the table.

An inhaler.

Ruby took a step forward, then checked herself.

‘It’s yours now. Don’t make me take it away from you.’

It was said with a smile but chilled Ruby to the core. It was obvious to her in that moment, as it should have been from the start, that this stranger now wielded the power of life or death over her.

17

He was taller than she expected. On the phone he had sounded hesitant and lacking in stature. But the reality was very different. Daniel Briers was tall and handsome, with a confident stride and an easy manner. Dark hair, flecked with grey at the temples, framed an open countenance.

‘DI Helen Grace. Thanks for coming down so quickly.’

‘I just want to get this thing sorted. There must have been a mix-up with the serial numbers. Pippa was tweeting again this morning, so it’s hardly likely that -’

‘May I have a look?’

They were heading out of Southampton train station towards Helen’s pool car. Daniel Briers handed her his phone. Helen read the tweet – a brief and anodyne comment about Sunday morning hangovers.

‘Have you actually spoken to her in the last two to three years?’ Helen asked, as she handed back the phone.

Daniel paused, frowned, then said:

‘No, I haven’t.’

He suddenly seemed less assured, the fatigue of a sleepless night catching up with him, eroding his optimism. ‘I tried many times, left countless messages, but… I don’t think she was ready to talk, so we had to rely on the occasional tweet and text. She seemed to be doing well in Southampton and… I was happy for her.’

As they drove to the mortuary, Daniel filled her in on the cause of their estrangement. Helen could have guessed before he said anything: a new wife.

Pippa’s mother had died of breast cancer when Pippa was six, sending the family into a spin for several years. But when Daniel had married again all seemed set fair. However, Pippa and his second wife did not get on. Kristy brought two children to the party from a previous marriage and to her mind, where they were constructive and polite, Pippa was hostile and unhelpful, unwilling to accept Kristy as her new mother. The situation had only worsened during Pippa’s teenage years and as soon as she was old enough to leave school