Chapter Nine
It was a truly terrified Robin Beswick who watched the door to the bedroom open some thirty minutes later; the time after his hostess’s departure having been spent in contemplation of the situation facing him. No greater evidence of the terror holding him in its grip was the fact that, in accordance with the woman’s orders, he had hadn’t moved – though he couldn’t see what she possibly hoped to serve by insisting he remain on the floor.
“Probably testing the power she thinks she has over me,” he thought to himself; correcting himself almost instantly:
“Think” did not come into it.
As the door handle turned he prayed she had persuaded her husband he was telling the truth and had no awareness of doing anything with his daughter – even if he had.
Except it wasn’t “She” who e
