A well-worn path led through a gap in the trees that separated the hotel car-park from the service station. Presumably legions of hungry travellers had been tempted by the promise of stale sandwiches and warm cola over the years. The forecourt was deserted as Laura and Christmas crossed the cracked concrete to the small shop.

"You're not anything weird, like a vegan or anything, are you?" asked Christmas.

"No. I shall eat your heart with relish after I've ripped it from your chest, 'Darling'."

Christmas gave his maddening chuckle again. "Well, fill your boots. Ooh, look, they've got a Cornish pasty. How cosmopolitan."

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh, now don't go all childish on me. Get something to eat. I'm paying. What's the point of starving yourself? You'd better get something to drink, too."

Christmas grabbed a shrink-wrapped baguette and a large bag of crisps. Laura watched surreptitiously as he made his way through the driving accessories shelves. The door was infuriatingly close, but the shop was not big enough to lose him in, and once out the door Laura would have few places to run. There were no hiding places, no other drivers, and he would almost certainly out-run her if she tried to reach the hotel. She thought of the receptionist who'd moved as slow as molasses when they'd arrived. Even if Laura could reach the entrance hall before Christmas stopped her, would she have time to elicit help from the bored woman? Would Christmas make good on his half-joking threat to kill her?

Christmas moved with a casual nonchalance. Was it an act? Would he leap into action if she made a break for it, or was he really nor taking any notice of her? Laura picked a sandwich at random and walked along the aisle of confectionary. She felt gawky, as though her limbs had grown extra joints she wasn't quite sure how to operate. It must look so obvious that she was trying not to look as though she was edging towards the door. Christmas turned, barely glancing at her as he did so. Laura developed a sudden fascination in the chocolate bars. God, she wasn't cut out for this.

Christmas bent down to something on the bottom shelf. Should she run now? Too late. He straightened and gave her a bright smile. "Got everything you want?" he asked.

Laura nodded. Christmas held his arm wide in an invitation for her to approach the checkout. She grabbed a bar of fruit and nut and swept by him.

"Petrol?" asked the young boy behind the counter.

"No, just these, please." Christmas placed the goods on the counter. As Laura placed her bounty next to his, nausea hit her like a punch to stomach. Alongside his food Christmas had placed a packet of plastic electrical ties. The cashier scanned the barcodes and rang the amount up. Christmas paid with cash again and swept the goods into a plastic carrier bag.

When they stepped out Laura stopped in front of the shop front, scowling in the light from the setting sun.

"What?" Christmas turned and looked at her quizzically.

"What are the cable ties for?"

Christmas looked unhappy. Laura experienced a fleeting satisfaction in that. "I have to know you're going to stay put," he said.

"No."

"I'll make sure you're comfortable."

"You may be a bloody kung fu master, but I promise you, there is no way you're going to tie me up."

Christmas stepped forward and made to put his hand on her elbow. Laura clenched her fists and snarled. He changed the gesture into one of appeasement, holding his palm out, patting the air between them before stepping back again.

"Be reasonable, Laura. How am I going to sleep knowing as soon as I do you'll cave my head in or contact the authorities?"

"You're not tying me up."

"What choice have I got? Tell me, what else can I do?"

"I don't give a shit. You're not tying me up."

"Are you still scared of that rapist crap? You'll be safe, I promise you."

"What if I promise to behave?"

"You won't."

"Then let me go now."

"And have you set the dogs on me? Listen, how about this?" Christmas stepped closer, leaning in to speak quietly. Suddenly he grabbed Laura's wrist, twisting it behind her, compelling her to step forward to relieve the pressure. He matched her step, so the two walked briskly back towards the hotel, Laura struggling all the way. Christmas easily sidestepped her kicks and attempts to hit him with her free hand. Christmas shoved her into the wall before they reached the front door.

"Jesus, you're hard work," he hissed. "You think I'm a killer? I'm surprised someone hasn't knocked you off years ago. All I want is a good night's sleep. Is that too much to ask? Listen, you can rant at me all you like when we're in the room, just be nice as we go through reception, okay?"

"Sure, okay."

Christmas sighed. "Oh, that was said with conviction. You're going to cause trouble, aren't you."

Laura clenched her teeth and remained silent.

"Shit. I'm sorry about this. Seriously, I'm so sorry."

A sudden fear gripped her. "What?"

Christmas spun her and slammed his open palm into her face.



She wasn't exactly unconscious. Laura was aware of Christmas supporting her as they walked. She tried to speak, but all she managed was an incoherent mumble. Then she felt the soft resistance of a bed below her.

"God, I'm sorry. How are you feeling?"

"Bastard," she muttered.

"I couldn't think of anything else to do. Nothing's broken, you'll be fine. Your reputation's shattered, though. I told reception you were drunk."

She opened her eyes. Christmas leant over her, concern on his face. "She leave you because you beat her up? Your wife, I mean."

"You need a cold compress."

"Only your apologies sound sort of practiced, you know? Like you're used to saying sorry to women you've beaten up."

Christmas stood up and smiled. "God, you've got some spirit. You always this feisty?"

"Only when some bastard kidnaps me and beats me up."

"I bet they only do that the once though. Wet some tissue, press it on your nose."

"Will you get the tissues?"

Christmas glanced at the door. "Best you do it yourself, I think. Then we can talk."

Laura sat up. He was right, damn him; she was fine. She rose from the bed and entered the bathroom. There was no window. She searched the tiny cubicle for some sort of weapon. The mirror was a polished metal plate screwed to the wall. The toothbrush beaker was flimsy plastic. The cheap hotel didn't even supply tiny bottles of shampoo she might squirt in his eyes. She grabbed some toilet paper and soaked it under the cold tap before pressing it to her nose. Then she leant against the stained sink and studied her blurred reflection in the mirror. What was she going to do now?

There was a gentle tap on the door.

"You all right?"

"Piss off."

"This would all be easier if you just called a truce for twelve hours."

"Fine. You stay there, I'll sleep in here."

"Don't be stupid. You can't sleep in there. There's no room to lie down."

Laura looked around the tiny room. He was right. She could almost touch both walls with her arms outstretched. She slid the flimsy bolt shut. "I'll be fine."

Christmas tried the door handle. "Now you're just being silly. Open the door. We can have a bite to eat, then settle down to sleep. Tomorrow I'll be out of your life."

Laura sat on the toilet seat and rested her head in her hands. It was going to be a long and sleep-free night trapped in this tiny cell.

The handle rattled again, and then the door flew open, the bolt releasing its grip on the frame with token resistance. Christmas stood in the doorway.

"I need to brush my teeth."

Laura leapt up and threw a punch. It lacked any grace or power in the cramped conditions. Christmas casually fended it off. She swung a kick, but he lifted his foot and caught her shin on the edge of his shoe. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her out of the bathroom and pushed her backwards onto the bed. He sat on the edge, his back to her, pulling her arm round towards the bedside. Laura grabbed at the hair on the back of his head with her free hand and pulled.

"Ow, that hurts!" said Christmas, but he still pulled her arm round. She felt the cold plastic tie slide over her wrist. Finally he turned, half stood and prised her fingers from his hair. Laura grinned at the tuft left in her fist.

"That really hurt," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"As much as a punch to the face?"

"Fair enough, I suppose. So we're even. Listen, it's just one hand, okay?"

Laura looked at her trapped hand. Next to the bed a shelf fixed to the wall served as a bedside table. A cable tie looped around the bracket. Through that another cable tie held her wrist fast.

"That's it. That's all I wanted to do. You can keep the other hand free to fight me off with your kung fu girly slaps. I just don't want you strangling me in my sleep, that's all."

Laura gave it a tug. The plastic cut into her wrist.

"No, don't do that. The tie's are on a ratchet. You can tighten them, but not loosen them. Just stay calm, keep your arm relaxed, and you'll be fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, nature calls."

Christmas retired into the bathroom.

Laura examined the shelf. It was resin with a wood-like grain patterned into it. The bracket seemed secure. She gave a hard tug anyway. The cable tie's loop immediately drew painfully tight around her wrist and would not loosen. She looked back to the bathroom door. It was still closed. She got to her feet and crouched by the shelf. Turning her back to it she jumped back, sitting heavily on the shelf with all her weight as she lifted her feet clear of the floor. The shelf remained immovably solid. Christmas appeared to have chosen the only well-constructed part of the whole room to tie her to. She jiggled up and down just in case, but it didn't so much as shake.

"You need to put some meat on your bones."

Christmas stood in the bathroom doorway, grinning.

"I tested it while you were powdering your nose. If it can take my weight, I'm pretty sure it'll take yours. Oh, what did I tell you about pulling on the tie?"

He pulled another cable tie from the packet. Laura dropped into a fighting stance as he approached her.

"Come on, I'm trying to be nice. That tie's too tight now. I'll have to cut it off. It'll get painful soon, and then it'll go green and drop off. How are you going to kill me one handed? Please. I can't afford to lose any more hair."

He approached Laura cautiously, reaching into his pocket and producing a pocket knife.

"I just need to cut it free, okay? Just relax. I don't want to hurt you."

He slowly slid the blade between the tie and Laura's swollen wrist.

"We lost a kid," he said.

"What?"

"She was pregnant, I was in Saudi on a job, uncontactable. She lost the kid, and it was three weeks before I came home. By that time she had moved out. That's why she left me. I never raised a hand to her." With a swift movement he looped the other tie around her wrist. He sawed at the other tie and Laura felt the blood painfully rush into her hand.

He stepped back out of her reach quickly.

"Don't pull it tight again."

"You bastard. You told me that bullshit just to distract me?"

He shrugged. "You asked, and it's not bullshit. Whatever, it worked. Here." He tossed the food from the service station at her. "I'll bed down over here, in front of the door."