Chosen by Bill Kitson

labelled him as ‘he’. ‘Sarah dear, would you like something to drink?’
    Her mouth and throat were parched. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth. She managed to croak, ‘Yes, please.’
    As his arm went round her, she managed to repress a shiver of repugnance. He lifted her gently to a sitting position and supported her. Sarah still dared not open her eyes. She felt the cold rim of a glass touch her lips. ‘Sip it slowly, Sarah, there’s a dear.’
    She took several sips before the glass was removed. ‘That’s enough, dear Sarah. We don’t want any little accidents during the night, do we?’

    She was lowered back down; her head came into contact with something soft. She heard footsteps then a door closing. Hoping against hope that she was alone she screwed up her courage and opened her eyes. It took a while to focus, even longer for her brain to sort out and identify the images. The first thing she saw was dolphins. Above her head they swam, dived, rose again and bumped together. It was this bumping sound that had woken her and Sarah understood what she was looking at. It was a child’s cot mobile. The dolphins had created the gentle cacophony she had heard on waking.
    She looked further afield, taking in the room’s wallpaper. It was gaily patterned in bright pastel colours dotted here and there with figures she recognized instantly. They were some of her favourite cartoon characters. She turned and looked across the room. She saw a large set of pine drawers, on top of which was an array of stuffed toy animals. Alongside the drawers stood a much larger, far nobler-looking animal. His proud neck was arched, his head carried proudly aloft. A long mane was swept to one side of his dappled grey body; a rocking horse. Sarah realized she was in a child’s nursery. But where was the child?
    She looked at the single bed on which she lay, with a duvet covered by more figures she remembered from childhood. The garment she was wearing was a flannelette nightdress covered in similar characters. A fresh wave of horror overcame her as Sarah realized she was the child!
    She was unable to cope with the implications of this. It seemed like too much trouble. It was far easier to lie there, relaxed and content. What she had seen ought to be disturbing, frightening even. But it didn’t seem to matter much any more. Her desperate situation didn’t seem as alarming. After all, she wasn’t being mistreated, really.
    In the next room her captor carefully washed the glass, dried it methodically on a tea towel and replaced it in the cupboard. He brushed his teeth in a well-established routine, counting each stroke. He dried the toothbrush and placed it precisely on the shelf above the basin. He dried his hands and looked at his watch. Twenty-five minutes had passed, ample time for the drug to take effect. He glanced in the mirror, smiling slightly at his excited reflection.

    He returned to the room and looked at the girl. ‘Not asleep yet, Sarah dear? Never mind. Now let me put the duvet over you. We don’t want you catching cold, do we?’
    He crossed to the bed and deftly slid the duvet from beneath Sarah’s body. She stared at him throughout, her expression one of puzzlement rather than fear. A sure sign the drug had worked. He touched her cheek. ‘My word, you are cold, dear. Never mind, we’ll soon have you warm.’
    Moving the duvet to one side he stared at the curves of her body. He smiled gently, longingly. He continued to gaze at her as he began to unfasten his shirt.

chapter six
    Nash walked the short distance through Helmsdale towards the police station. His thoughts were on Lauren. Fun to be with, demanding no commitment. He’d miss her. Suddenly his mind crowded with memories of Stella: Stella laughing, Stella in his arms, Stella’s beautiful smile. He shook his head to dismiss them. Guilt pricked his conscience. For the