out of Downton Abbey, but once he was sure no one could hear him, he’d let his mask drop and harass her, making clear his intentions and promising acts of unspeakable violence against her.
Penny had made no mention of it to her grandma as she didn’t want to scare her. She’d researched it online and discovered that without physical acts of aggression, visible bruises, a visit to ER or reliable witnesses, no one would really believe her. Grant was the son of a lawyer – he had himself just graduated from law school – plus he was rich, dressed like an Abercrombie model and even had the looks of one. Who would ever imagine he could be a danger?
Penny continued up the stairs. Suddenly her phone signalled it was about to run out of battery.
‘Not now, not now, not now!’ she pleaded, but the old contraption didn’t give a damn about her fears and chose to die right then and there.
She was plunged into the darkest of darks, halfway up a flight of stairs.
There was nothing for it but to continue to climb, hoping her feet wouldn’t find the edge of some broken step and that her panic wouldn’t come rushing back. Above all, she hoped not to encounter Grant emerging from the darkness.
She held her breath and climbed the stairs as fast as she could.
Three more floors, three more floors. Hold on. You can do it. The darkness is only dark; it’s not a wall, it’s not a well, it’s not the centre of the earth.
Suddenly she heard fast, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs behind her. There was no way it was one of the elderly residents of the building. Penny was the only young tenant in the midst of an army of retirees, all over sixty, and none of them could move in such an agile way. Her heart was on the verge of bursting, and there was no way she could stop it. A herd of horses galloped in her chest. For a moment she felt faint and stopped to lean against the wall, but then she mustered up all her courage.
Like hell am I gonna let you win, you fucking creep!
She picked up her pace again as a milky glow pooled on a flight of stairs below her. The asshole had a flashlight. Penny started to run with the chaotic fervour of a wounded deer, until finally she reached her floor. Panting, she dug in her bag for her keys, but they were nowhere to be found, as if even they were in league with Grant. She continued to rummage, feeling her way through a tide of junk – her wallet, scattered M&Ms, tissues, a bottle of nail polish, cocoa butter lip balm – the whole artistic jumble that filled her Mary Poppins-style bag. Everything was there except for the one thing she needed, and then finally she felt them, cold and hostile against her palm. Victorious, she pulled them out and groped for the keyhole with her fingertips.
Grant was very close by now, the light from his flashlight about to reach her, and then Penny’s keys fell to the ground, ringing out like scattered coins on a sidewalk.
You idiot! she thought to herself. You’re like the girl in some cheesy horror movie – the one who runs from the monster straight into the nearest parking garage, deserted road or forest. You deserve everything coming to you!
She knelt on the floor, her eyes flooding with tears, unable to stem the flow of her fear. The keys appeared just before the beam of light blinded her.
Penny remained on the ground, her back against the wall, one hand in front of her face. The light was pointing straight at her now, like the laser eye of some evil cyclops. Behind it she could make out the silhouette of a man. Grant – it was Grant for sure.
An arm stretched in her direction, reaching out to overpower her.
‘Touch me and I’ll kick you!’ Penny exclaimed. It wasn’t easy to hide her panic under layers of fake bravery. She hadn’t eaten all evening but a little food came up anyway, as if all the meals from the last ten years were climbing up her throat.
While she fumbled in indecision – What do I do? Do I try to hit him? Should I run? Should I shout? Should I pray? – a hand grabbed her and pulled her up, though more gently than she’d expected.