Autobiography

She took off her coat and toed off her ankle boots. Bill watched every movement, leaning against the oven.

"I'm afraid fortune is against you, Margaux. We'll have to stop going out."

"What? Why?" She turned to face him; his face had that unsettling blank expression.

"It's too much of a risk. You can't be expected to resist the temptation to ask someone for help."

"I won't! I promise I won't."

"No, I'm sorry. It's not worth it." He turned to leave, and she grabbed his arm. He looked down at her hand on his sleeve.

"Please don't stop me going out. I need this."

"How much?"

They stared at each other in silence.

"I think you'll want to see this."

They both turned to look at Robert entering the kitchen. He handed Bill the laptop. Bill watched the screen for a few moments before he spoke:

"Well, Margaux, it appears they've finally started looking for you."

He put the computer on the table and turned it towards her. She was looking at a greyscale image of her own driveway. As she watched, a patrol car pulled up and a policeman got out. Bill changed the view to her drawing room, where someone was rifling through a pile of unopened post.

"They sent a patrol 'round while you were out. It seems like they decided it was suspicious pretty fast."

"Won't they find your cameras?"

"Eventually." Bill was watching the figures on the screen with the slightest hint of a grin. He was enjoying this?

"...Can't they trace the video feed back to you?"

"Once again, Margaux, your thoughtful insights are much appreciated, but we have it covered."

"So what happens now?"

"We wait." Bill minimised the window, and Margaux found herself looking at a tiled layout of her house. There was an officer in each of the six rooms, looking through her belongings.

She saw the skinny, dark shape of the cat crossing the kitchen floor, and her heart gave a little leap. She hadn't even been worried about it, but now that she saw him, trying to paw open the bin as always, she felt a surge of relief that he was alright.

But there was another feeling. Watching these strangers moving around her house, looking for signs of her absence, was a reminder of her situation. Out there, the world was still turning. People's lives were affected by this kidnapping besides her own. Who had alerted the police? Was her dad worried? She hadn't even thought about that. Had someone out there been kept awake last night, wondering where she was?

Margaux bit her lip and looked away from the screen.

"They'll worry for a couple of days before David gets the video." Robert flicked the kettle on, and it started its low rumble.

"I... suppose that's good for you."

"Good for you, too. If they're scared, they'll pay faster," Robert responded, rattling the cutlery drawer in search of a spoon.

"But it won't make much difference if they don't have the money."

"Oh, they have it. Don't worry about that."

She didn't respond.

Bill watched Margaux leave the kitchen and frowned.

*

"What do you know, Margaux?"

She looked up from her book to meet Bill's gaze.

"No more than I've already told you."

"Which is what?"

"That I don't think anyone is going to pay."

"And why is that?"

"Besides the fact that you're trying to get the money from my ex husband? He has no interest in my personal safety."

"I think you underestimate him, Margaux."

"I think you overestimate him."

"Be that as it may, he's the wealthiest person you know, and he also happens to know all of your friends in the industry."

"I suppose I can't deny that."

"But you're still not convinced?"

"Of course not."

He sat down on the bed. Margaux edged away, and he pulled her back, holding her in place with an arm around her shoulders. She swallowed nervously.

"Why, Margaux?"

"David is broke."

The muscles in Bill's jaw tightened, then relaxed.

"How broke?"

"I don't know the figures... but it's bad. He has a lot of gambling debts."

Bill was silent. Thinking. Finally he said, more to himself than her:

"That's fine. Someone else will pay."

"But I-- I'm just not that important. Not ten million pounds important."

"Now, that just isn't true..." He was twisting his fingers in her hair; when his thumb brushed the back of her neck, she flinched. He brought his mouth close to her ear. Her heart was hammering. "You're their pretty little cash cow, Margaux. They wouldn't want to see you get slaughtered."