Annie arranged the cheeseboard on the counter top and polished the six new Babycham glasses she bought as a sort of celebration for today. After their big day together, Annie and Matthew had agreed to leave it a few days before seeing each other again. Matthew wanted to get the whole priest thing sorted out before they moved forward. He did not want the deception to go on any longer than it already had.

‘The next time I see you, darling,’ he told her, ‘I will have rescinded my vocation. I’ll no longer be a priest.’

‘How do you know if I’ll still like you when you’re not a priest?’ she said teasingly. He looked slightly crestfallen so she leaned in and kissed him and said, ‘I can’t wait to have you all to myself.’

In the days since that glorious day together, Annie had tried to keep her feet on the ground. She had changed. Her life was changing. When Vogue went wild for Alex’s test picture in the park, Lara had, finally, persuaded Annie that modelling could be a lucrative career for her.

‘You’ll need plenty of money if you’re going to make a life with an artist,’ she cautioned.

Annie defended Matthew’s ability to make money as an artist but she thought Lara was probably right. Matthew wasn’t a rich man and it would take a while for him to get on his feet. She had not cared about having any more than the bare essentials up to now, but if she and Matthew were to be together, get married, do the things that ordinary people did, they would need money. So she told Alex to go about getting her an agent and already, she had three jobs booked for the following week.

She took three of the glasses and put them back in the press. She didn’t want Matthew to think she was having a party although, in her heart, she wanted her friends there to meet him. This would be a celebration of sorts and while she had not specifically arranged for Lara and Noreen to be there, they were in and out of the flat all day and Alex had said he might drop by to finalise some arrangements for next week. How wonderful it would be if they all turned up and met Matthew!

She checked the clock and it was twenty past four. Matthew was late. Her stomach shrivelled with fear that he might not come. Of course he would come. This was Matthew. Although, perhaps something had happened to him. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Or perhaps she had said half-past. Yes. That was it. There were ten more minutes before she should start worrying. To distract herself she checked the cheeseboard again. The big lump of orange cheddar looked unsightly so she decided to dress it properly. Annie took down her new cutter from its hook and began to meticulously cut it into thin slices. Repetitive, meticulous domestic work calmed her down, and sure enough – ding dong, there was Matthew at the door.

Annie threw aside her apron and the cheese cutter and ran down the stairs, then quickly opened the door and…

‘Hello, Hanna.’

She reeled backwards. Dorian wasted no time. With great speed he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. He cocked his head to one side and said, in a sudden quick voice, ‘Surprised to see me? Why Dorian you’re looking so well. You haven’t changed one bit!’

Annie was paralysed with shock. A ghoul, risen from the dead. Any pretence at handsome charm was gone and in its place was the physical embodiment of ugly anger. It was as if he had been turned inside out and now the world could see the monster he was. As he stood there now, Dorian was her worst nightmare made manifest. She had made him that way and now he was back to haunt her. Was he real or a ghost? Perhaps her love for a holy man had brought God’s wrath down on her and He had sent the devil, in person, to claim her.

But he was real, alright. Dorian grabbed her shoulders, spun her around and prodded her up the stairs. Weak with terror, she led him up to her flat. He quickly closed the door behind them, then secured the flimsy bolt lock and pressed a chair under the door handle, ‘Just in case,’ he said, and smiled at her. Annie felt a chill run through her. Again.

It was going to happen again.

‘There now,’ he said. ‘All cosy.’

He looked around him as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

‘This is nice,’ he said, as if he were her visiting stepfather, as if he still had his good looks and charm. ‘A very tidy arrangement. It’s Annie isn’t it? What do I call you now?’

As if she still belonged to him.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Annie couldn’t speak. Annie was gone.

‘Hanna,’ she said. She pushed the word out, forcing it up from her gut but it came out in a guttural cough.

‘Pardon? I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up my dear. My hearing is a little off since our little,’ and he coughed portentously, ‘accident.’

‘Hanna,’ she said, as clearly as she could.

He smiled. His eyes were as black and hard as granite.

‘That’s right. You’re Hanna – my stepdaughter and you have been a very naughty girl haven’t you?’

She felt sick. She could feel bile rise up from her stomach.

‘Answer me!’

‘Yes,’ she said.

As she held back the vomit, Annie’s shock began to subside and the reality of her situation started to sink in. Dorian was alive. Here, in the flesh. She had not killed him, after all. She was not a murderer. But – he was. He had cold-bloodedly stolen and destroyed the soul of a child. Her inner child. He had destroyed who she was as surely as if he had killed her.

Now, he was going to rape her and possibly kill her. Worse, he could take her back to Killa and they would carry on as before except this time there would be no escape. This life, Annie’s, all of it, would be gone. And Matthew? Love? It would all be no more than a distant dream.

‘Everyone had been very worried about you, dear Hanna. All the ladies of the village, Mrs Clarke and the like have been wondering where you were. They are very cross with you leaving your poor stepfather after he was so…’ then he drew his hand down suddenly and fiercely on the coffee table, ‘viciously attacked!’ The glass smashed in one long crack and she flinched.

Then, she remembered. Matthew. He was on his way. The relief subsided as she thought about what that meant. Would he rescue her? Would he be able to get in? If he did, what would Dorian say? He would tell Matthew that she had tried to kill him. That she had left him for dead. Dorian would play the poor cripple and manipulate everyone into his way of thinking. That was what he was good at. Matthew would believe she was lying about having been abused and people would believe Dorian. They would believe him even more now that he was crippled. She would be labelled a wicked murderess and Matthew would hate her. That would be worse than anything.

Her only hope was to stand up to Dorian. To show him that she was a strong woman. To let him see that Hanna had grown up into Annie. Annie was a strong, independent woman with friends and a job and a life of her own. Annie was beyond his reach. She drew herself up to her full height, raised her chin to give herself a haughty look that Alex had taught her, and said in the clearest voice that she could, ‘I want you to leave, now. Please get out of my flat.’

‘Really?’ he said, and laughed. ‘Is that the best you can do?’

‘My friends will be here soon and when I tell them what you’re like, what you’ve done—’

‘Ah, your friends. That skinny Jew that takes those common pictures of you? I doubt he could do me much harm, even if he wanted to. And then there is the lovely Noreen…’

What was he saying?

‘Oh, didn’t you know? Noreen and I are great friends. In fact, she arranged to keep the flat clear this afternoon so that you and I could have our…’ and he sank his head in a dramatic gesture of humility, then looked up at her coyly, ‘emotional reunion.’

Annie was shocked but not surprised. Even him following her and all of this set up. She did not feel betrayed. This was how Dorian operated. If he was that determined to get her back, she had to be more so.

‘I’ve met somebody else.’

Even putting Matthew in the same context as Dorian felt wrong, but perhaps suggesting that he once meant something to her might appeal to some shred of normality in him.

Dorian looked at her for a moment and she could see the reference sinking in. Just not in the way she had hoped.

‘Ah, the boyfriend. Tall, slender chap. Not bad looking, I suppose. Rather serious though. And not much of a man by the look of him. Rather a lot of kissing and not much else.’

Annie felt the bile rise again. He had been watching them. The whole day she spent with Matthew. The day, which belonged only to them, had been witnessed by this vile man.

‘No, Hanna, I’m afraid you won’t be seeing that young man again.’

She looked at him and her eyes asked the question that her mouth couldn’t.

‘Yes, I’m afraid he met with an accident. He came close quarters with an iron bar. Repeatedly. Rather like myself.’

Annie ran behind the kitchen counter and vomited into the sink.

‘Oh dear, oh dear, what a terrible mess,’ Dorian said. ‘I thought you might be disappointed to hear that but you know, Hanna, in life you win some, you lose some. And those who live by the sword, I’m afraid…’

As he talked, Annie’s body emptied itself. And when she could feel her body was empty she kept the tap running and imagined she was purging her soul. Everything she had known being flushed down the sink. She did not want a shred of anything inside her. Without Matthew, Annie was as much a painful memory as Hanna was. It was all pointless. Without Matthew, there was no love. She had lived without it for so long, then found it here. Among these people and with Matthew she had started again. But women like her could never start again. If she couldn’t have Matthew, if she couldn’t have love, then she didn’t want anything inside her.

So Annie ran the tap at full speed and watched the water flood down the plug hole. With it she flushed everything she was. The abuse, the shame, the fear, the guilt of Hanna and then, the joy, the optimism, the hope and the love of Annie – all gone.

When she stood up she heard Dorian still talking.

‘You couldn’t have liked him anyway. Not really, Hanna. A wimp like that? He didn’t even fight back. Well, not much anyway. Begged for his life. Pleaded with me. Even I didn’t beg, Hanna. Do you remember? I took it like a man and now – here I am! Coming back for more – and where’s he? No, only the strong survive, Hanna, and I am strong. This is for the best, Hanna, really. You’ll see that. When we get home everything will be different. Although I’m thinking now that perhaps we could stay here in London. Not here of course in this poky dump. Things will be different between us too, Hanna. You’ll see. I can make you happy.’

This was what Dorian enjoyed. Making plans for them. Being in control. Lying. He didn’t know he was lying most of the time. He just wanted things to be true and thought he could make them that way through his will. He believed he could be kind and loving by simply stating it. He did not know what kindness or love were so he talked about them all the time to try to bring them to life. He was, really, a pitiful creature who could not help the way he was. He was beyond redemption. So, perhaps, was she.

Annie didn’t feel angry any more.

The anger was gone, along with everything else.

She just knew that she couldn’t do this again.

She turned off the tap, and went over and stood behind Dorian’s chair.

Then she leaned down and kissed him on the top of his forehead. Dorian leaned his head back into the chair. She had come to her senses. He knew from the softness of her touch that she was sincere. She stroked her fingers across his neck, then tenderly drew the thick, black hair back from his collar.

Hanna picked up the cheese cutter from the countertop.

‘Not like before,’ she said, firmly securing the wooden handles in her small fists.

‘That’s right,’ Dorian said closing his eyes, not seeing the wire thread as it whipped in front of his face. He leaned back to her in ecstasy and promised, ‘No, my darling girl. It won’t be like before.’