Holly was crouching behind the ivy-clad, shoulder-height boundary wall beside Maggie’s house that partitioned the row from McHerry Street. There was no traffic and only a few cars parked up the other side of it. She shakily applied the adhesive dressing to her wound. Pulling her T-shirt, pullover, and poncho back over it she shivered, but her scalp still felt hot and itchy in her woollen hat. She glimpsed her watch.

Just under seven hours until sunrise.

She’d heard the nursery window closing and stared up at the sealed curtains. Was she still in there? She couldn’t spot the drone in the charcoal sky behind the snowfall, but knew it was monitoring her next move. Where was Babysitter? She didn’t know anything about the range of drones. Was he seated in a car nearby, or watching in comfort from miles away?

There was nobody else in Bozeman Street. Houses on both sides were lit by a row of spherical streetlights and only a couple of large windows were illuminated in the top rooms of a house at the far left end. The cold air was slowly reviving her, or was it the painkillers working? Gripping the flower head hard in her palm she focussed on two inescapable facts: Babysitter knew her every move; Babysitter wouldn’t return Abigail until Maggie was dead.

There was no leverage. And time was running out.

She had to think only of Abigail. Contemplate the image she’d been blocking of her daughter in a stranger’s arms. Use it as the worst kind of incentive to see the night out. She took a few more breaths and ignored the low-key twinge of the wound at her waist. She slid the flower head into her right sleeve and tentatively limped back towards the house. Staying in the shadow of the wall, Holly didn’t take her eyes from the upstairs windows. All dark. Was Maggie watching her approach?

She’d had an idea and needed to get back to the rear of the property while Maggie was upstairs. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down though. As she stepped back into the alley she slid the knife out of her pocket with one hand, kept her Browning raised in the other and trod the snow as lightly as she could. Her gut trembled as well as her jaw.

Weak light still glowed behind the shuttered windows and spilled out of the kitchen onto the yard. She glanced in. Didn’t look like Maggie had unbolted the inner door.

Holly took out the keys and quietly unlocked the back door again. She opened it and cautiously stepped back inside the kitchen, the warmth of the room melting the flakes on her eyelashes and face. Blinking away the moisture she stole to the cupboard under the sink. She placed the knife on the drainer, silently tugged the doors and tried to suppress a hiss of pain as she knelt to look inside.

Behind the box of paintbrushes and rollers she found something she could use. It was a tube of barbecue lighter gel.

Gingerly searching through the kitchen drawers she found a box of matches in the third one down. The contents rattled as she shook them. Without hesitating, Holly knelt at the bolted door and squirted the creamy contents of the tube along the bottom of the panel and then further up the wood. Hopefully the smoke would seep under the door, and Maggie would smell it and get out before Penny was in any real danger.

She looked to the ceiling and found a smoke alarm. Holly hoped there were others in the house. She would leave via the back door and lock it again. Unless Maggie had a spare key, she would have to escape through the front, and that’s where Holly would be waiting for her.

Holly listened at the door for movement in the lounge and then took a match out of the box and struck it. She gulped as the flame burst and flickered and held it an inch from the wood.

Holding her breath, she touched it to the door. Nothing happened. She played the flame over the white pools but they only sizzled and browned. Returning to the cupboard she located a bottle of spirit amongst the paintbrushes.

When she got back to the door there was a tiny flame weakly licking at it. Holly squirted the spirit over it, and the flame surged outwards before rolling up. Black patches appeared on the panel behind the shimmering yellow, and Holly stood back and watched the veneer begin to bubble. There was a lot of smoke, and that was exactly what she wanted.

But the flames enlarged quickly until the door was entirely covered by them, and she had to stand back from the heat and cover her mouth. The smoke alarm began to squeal above her. She could also hear one in the lounge, sounding just out of sync with the first.

Maggie would already be looking for an exit, so Holly reversed back out of the door and pulled it shut behind her. She watched the smoke waft against the glass as she locked it and felt a stab of guilt about sealing Maggie and her child inside. But Maggie could get out the front or break a window, and Holly had to be ready for every eventuality. And there was something much more significant to consider when she did emerge.

Holly gazed up at the window above her. No light on. Gripping the Browning tight she scuttled back down the alleyway. The snow was falling so hard now she couldn’t even see the end of it. Shit. She’d left the knife on the drainer. No time to go back. If Maggie were heading for the front door how fast would she get there? Surely she wouldn’t attempt to enter the kitchen.

Holly kept low as she reached the windows again and dashed back onto the street. She crouched and waited behind the cover of the wall, gun pointing at the front door and eyes flitting between the panes.

If the door opened she would tell Maggie to lay Penny down. If she didn’t immediately comply she would threaten to open fire. Maggie would have to obey. She would assure her that she would take care of Penny. And then she’d have to pull the trigger. Pull it a couple of times. She couldn’t hesitate. Holly had to consider what it would mean for Abigail if she did that again.

She didn’t look up but knew the drone would be swooping there, relaying the moment the two women came properly face-to-face.