The Collector

I could see she wanted me to take the gag off, but I wouldn’t do it. What I did was I undid her arms and then immediately went back out; she struggled to get the gag off, but I got the door closed first and the bolts in. I heard her cry, come back! Then again but not loud. Then she tried the door, but not very hard. Then she began to bang on the door with something hard. I think it was the hairbrush. It didn’t sound much, anyhow I put the false shelf in and knew you wouldn’t hear anything outside. I stayed an hour in the outer cellar, just in case. It wasn’t necessary, there was nothing in her room she could have broken the door down with even if she had the strength, I bought all plastic cups and saucers and aluminium teapot and cutlery, etcetera.

Eventually I went up and went to bed. She was my guest at last and that was all I cared about. I lay awake a long time, thinking about things. I felt a bit unsure the van would be traced, but there were hundreds of vans like that, and the only people I really worried about were those two women who passed.

Well, I lay there thinking of her below, lying awake too. I had nice dreams, dreams where I went down and comforted her; I was excited, perhaps I went a bit far in what I gave myself to dream, but I wasn’t really worried, I knew my love was worthy of her. Then I went to sleep.

After, she was telling me what a bad thing I did and how I ought to try and realize it more. I can only say that evening I was very happy, as I said, and it was more like I had done something very daring, like climbing Everest or doing something in enemy territory. My feelings were very happy because my intentions were of the best. It was what she never understood.

To sum up, that night was the best thing I ever did in my life (bar winning the pools in the first place). It was like catching the Mazarine Blue again or a Queen of Spain Fritil-lary. I mean it was like something you only do once in a lifetime and even then often not; something you dream about more than you ever expect to see come true, in fact.

I didn’t need the alarm, I was up before. I went down, locking the cellar door behind me. I’d planned everything, I knocked on her door and shouted please get up, and waited ten minutes and then drew the bolts and went in. I had her bag with me which I had searched, of course. There was nothing she could use except a nail-file and a razor-blade cutter which I removed.

The light was on, she was standing by the armchair. She’d got all her clothes on and she stared at me again, no sign of fear, bold as brass she was. It’s funny, she didn’t look quite like I’d always remembered her. Of course I’d never seen her so close before.

I said, I hope you slept well.

“Where is this, who are you, why have you brought me here?” She said it very coldly, not at all violent.

I can’t tell you.

She said, “I demand to be released at once. This is monstrous.”

We just stood staring at each other.

“Get out of the way. I’m going to leave.” And she came straight towards me, towards the door. But I didn’t budge. I thought for a minute she was going to attack me, but she must have seen it was silly. I was determined, she couldn’t have won. She stopped right up close to me and said, “Get out of the way.”

I said, you can’t go yet. Please don’t oblige me to use force again.

She gave me a fierce cold look, then she turned away. “I don’t know who you think I am. If you think I’m somebody rich’s daughter and you’re going to get a huge ransom, you’ve got a shock coming.”

I know who you are, I said. It’s not money.

I didn’t know what to say, I was so excited, her there at last in the flesh. So nervous. I wanted to look at her face, at her lovely hair, all of her all small and pretty, but I couldn’t, she stared so at me. There was a funny pause.

Suddenly she said accusing like, “And don’t I know who you are?”

I began to go red, I couldn’t help it, I never planned for that, I never thought she would know me.

She said slowly, “Town Hall Annexe.”

I said, I don’t know what you mean.

“You’ve got a moustache,” she said.

I still don’t know how she knew. She saw me a few times in the town, I suppose, perhaps she saw me out of the windows of their house sometimes, I hadn’t thought of that, my mind was all in a whirl.

She said, “Your photo was in the paper.”

I’ve always hated to be found out, I don’t know why, I’ve always tried to explain, I mean invent stories to explain. Suddenly I saw a way out.

I said, I’m only obeying orders.

“Orders,” she said. “Whose orders?”

I can’t tell you.

She would keep staring at me. Keeping her distance, too. I suppose she thought I would attack her.

“Whose orders?” she said again.

I tried to think of someone. I don’t know why, the only name I could think of she might know was Mr. Singleton. He was the manager of the Barclays. I knew her father banked there. I saw him several times in there when I was, and talking with Mr. Singleton.

Mr. Singleton’s orders, I said.