CHAPTER THIRTY-TWOHilary caught at her courage with all her might. If the worst came to the worst, she must run out and get to the door and scream. “There’s a woman over the way who screams three times a week when her husband beats her, and no one takes any notice. It’s no good screaming.” No good thinking of that. Think—think hard about the room—about where the furniture is. He’ll be taken by surprise. Think where the table is, and the chairs. The chairs. Pick one up if you can—yes, pick one up and drive at him with a leg—at his knees—or his head. A good deal could be done with a chair, and his knife would be no good to him.
She put her hand on the latch of the cupboard door and lifted it. The door moved outwards a shade, a thread, a crack—a crack to look through. She could see a long st
