The Stone Wife

Humiliating.

However…

There was one thing on the plus side, even though she couldn’t take much credit for it: her objective had been to gain entry to Nathan’s house and it looked likely to happen. They were definitely driving in the direction of Leigh Woods. They had crossed the Avon on Brunel Way and looped northwards on the west side of the gorge, cruising at speed along deserted roads into millionaire country.

‘Technically, this is abduction,’ she said in as calm a voice as she could raise.

The minder on her right said, ‘Shut it.’

Nathan told her without a glance in her direction, ‘You don’t seriously expect to throw shit at me and walk away?’

‘I’ve done nothing. I only met you an hour ago.’

‘Don’t give me that. You and Lily pulled this off together.’

‘If you’re talking about Lee Li, I only met her for the first time tonight.’

Nathan didn’t answer. But the reason Ingeborg was his prisoner was made clear. He now believed she and Lee had conspired against him. Lee had chosen this night to cut loose and because Ingeborg had used the same escape route, it was taken to be a joint arrangement.

She, too, lapsed into silence.

The hanging woods towering over the river on the Somerset side of the gorge rank high among the glories of the British landscape, making even Brunel’s suspension bridge look a modest structure. By night the blue-grey gap between plunging masses of black is decorated by the necklace-like lights of the bridge. From Rownham Hill the glow of the city on the opposite side confirmed to Ingeborg that she had correctly predicted the route. She was urging herself to be positive. Her earlier mistakes shouldn’t matter now she was being driven in style to Nathan’s mansion — even though her wrists were bound.

Near the top they took a right. The road map in her brain told her they were now heading towards North Road, a haven of affluence in an area known as Nightingale Valley, where many of the major properties were sited.

Sure enough, they reached a T-junction, turned left and travelled a short distance before braking in front of a substantial entrance between high stone walls. The driver pressed a remote. In silence the steel gate rolled aside.

A dog was barking nearby. Escaping from here wouldn’t be a breeze, Ingeborg noted as they started up a long drive. It wasn’t surprising Lee had chosen to decamp from the ship, rather than this penned-up place. Exactly what had prompted the escape bid was less certain. Things must have gone badly wrong for her to cut loose at this point. Nathan’s support of her career in pop had seemed to underwrite the relationship.

Well, he wasn’t Prince Charming, for sure.

Security lights blazed as they approached a tall, coal-black building with gothic features any director of horror movies would have sold his birthright to acquire.

Someone was awake at this hour of the morning and stepped forward to open the car door. He looked a clone for the other bodyguards.

Nathan stepped out without a word and made a gesture for Ingeborg to follow. She felt a cautionary hand on her shoulder from the heavy who had shared the back seat.

They passed through an arched doorway into a tiled entrance hall the size of a barn, with suits of armour displayed on the walls, along with shields, swords and lances. What message was that supposed to give out? An owner with delusions of grandeur? An interest in medieval history? Or a need to divert suspicion?

The collection of modern weapons would be stored somewhere less obvious, Ingeborg decided.

The doorman helped Nathan out of his coat. The pinstripe three-piece underneath definitely hadn’t been bought off the peg.

‘Will the lady be in the guest room, sir?’ the doorman enquired. Perhaps, on consideration, he was a butler.

‘The tower room,’ Nathan said.

‘I need a bathroom first,’ Ingeborg said.

‘It’s en suite, madame,’ Nathan said with mock servility. ‘Tonight you’re my guest.’

‘Your prisoner, you mean.’

‘Have it your way.’ He turned to the bodyguard. ‘Search her. She’s got a phone in her pocket. I need that.’

It wasn’t pleasant being frisked, but the handling was workmanlike. The man didn’t make it an excuse for a grope.

Nathan was handed her iPhone. He pocketed it. ‘I’m going to get some sleep. We’ll talk later. You will, anyway.’

The hand on her shoulder tightened. She was steered across the hall and through a door. A stone staircase spiralled upwards. They were in the tower already.

‘Move it,’ the minder said.

‘It would be easier if you untied my hands. I’m not going to take you on.’

The suggestion was ignored. She climbed two floors and waited while a door was unlocked and a dim light switched on.

‘The penthouse suite?’ she said, stepping inside. Her wit was lost on the bodyguard.

In this house they must have been used to unwelcome guests. The light was mounted on the wall in thick glass behind a steel grille. The furniture consisted of a wooden camp bed that looked a relic from the 1950s, with two thin brown blankets lying across the canvas slats. The en suite was a bucket with a lid and no other comforts. A cat might have squeezed through the narrow lancet windows, but no human would.