Outside the house stood the most disgusting old van she’d ever seen. She couldn’t believe he actually meant her to travel in that, but he was opening the door and shovelling her into the passenger seat. Shovelling was the only word for it. She immediately tried to break out and he slammed the door shut again.

‘We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,’ he said through the half-open window. ‘The easy way is for you to sit here quietly. The hard way is for me to chuck you in the back, lock the rear doors and keep you there until we reach the other end.’

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

He grinned. ‘Even you’re not stupid enough to believe that.’

‘Whaddaya mean? Even me?’

‘Work it out.’

As he went around to the driver’s seat she sat in sullen silence, partly because she knew he meant what he said, and partly because it was becoming hard to move. She leant her head against the back of the seat, just for a moment.

CHAPTER TWO

‘ARE you all right, darling?’ Mrs Foster’s face came into focus.

‘Mum? What-?’

Somehow the van had turned into her own bed in her own room. Her head was throbbing and her mother was smiling at her anxiously.

‘How did I-? Oh, goodness!’

She bounded out of bed and just reached the bathroom before the storm broke. When it was over and she was feeling a little better she noticed something for the first time.

She was wearing only a bra and panties. They were peach-coloured, flimsy lace, and might as well not have existed for all they concealed. Her golden dress and her tights had been removed.

When? Where? How?