What had the boy said earlier? ‘You weren’t supposed to be…’ She wasn’t supposed to be what? Home? That didn’t make sense, who would think she was away, and why? And then it struck her. She wasn’t supposed to be awake! The sleeping pills! This robber knew she’d be whacked out on sleeping pills, and probably wouldn’t wake up even if there was a loud noise. Who knew she was taking the medication? Magnus. But practically everyone she’d come in contact with, she was always complaining how lethargic they made her.
Another potential culprit began to dawn on Mrs Dixit. The train woman! Lidia what’s-her-face. That lying, cheating scam artist. Of course, it was her. She’d discovered how valuable the model trains were and sent someone to steal them. Mrs Dixit should never have listened to her sister!
She took two deep breaths, wincing at the pain they caused. The boy would be back soon. If he was checking in with a boss, maybe there was no one outside in a vehicle after all? If Mrs Dixit could make it out of the building, perhaps she would get away? She wiggled the cords again until they chafed her skin. He would chase her, she realised, even if she could manage to get off the chair, and he was fast.
The silence settled in again. It was now Mrs Dixit felt the most terrified. The silence! This flat! That she might come to an ugly end, here in this dead silence, away from anyone who loved her, as her husband lay prone. It was suffocating. She wanted to yell, to scream, not even for rescue, but so the universe would be forced to acknowledge her existence. I’m here! she thought, tears streaming hotly down her cheeks. I can’t be smothered like this, silently in the night. Why hadn’t she stormed noisily into Naveem’s parents’ house, banging pots and kicking things as she went? Why was she so afraid of the sounds she could make? Why did she have to smother herself? No! She would fight him – the boy – she would yell. She would bite at his face. Yank at his hair. She would not go quietly. Mrs Dixit was needed – there was Naveem, but also Mrs Rampersad now, she would be bereft without her, and Henry too. You see, there were people to make a racket for. Thank God! There were people for whom to set off fireworks, to ignite explosions, to make every possible cacophony.
Henry! His deft fingers on the cords as he tied the nautical knots, his big round hazel eyes staring up at her proudly, the gentle murmur of appreciation from the surrounding schoolchildren. The knots! Instead of trying to free her bound wrists, Mrs Dixit wiggled her fingers up the rope and found the bulging knot. A quick assessment showed it to be the most basic of double knots and she made short work of the first one, which was relatively loose. The second knot was tighter and would not budge. Mrs Dixit tried wiggling her wrists, to allow her to change her position, and kept chipping away at the knot with her thumb, hoping it would yield. How long had the boy been gone? Two minutes? Five? She struggled at the knot some more, but it was obstinate. She thought of Mrs Rampersad, sleeping peacefully and unawares above her, and a new idea came to her – and even in her dire predicament she rolled her eyes at the thought of it.
‘Alright,’ she said, quietly. She pictured the most recent flyer. ‘“The name of the Lord is a strong Tower; the righteous run into it and are safe”. Please make me safe!’ she spoke slightly louder, but still under her breath as she continued to work the knot. What else? ‘“For He will deliver the needy when he cries”.’ And I’m crying, I’m crying here, she implored. What else was there, oh yes – ‘“The poor also, and him who has no helper”. And also, she whose wrists are bound by a godforsaken thief who has come into our home.’ The knot gave only slightly, but she could work with that. Hallelujah! ‘“Seek the Lord and his strength. Seek his presence continually!” Untie this fucking knot!’ she hissed – the swearword from her own lips surprising her, giving her an additional surge of confidence, and suddenly it was done and the biting cords loosened from around her raw wrists. She paused. He was approaching, coming up