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threw it out. Always do. Nobody’s business any of that stuff.”
     
    “ That’s it,” said Charlotte. “I’m afraid you are legally obliged to fill it out. I can give you another one?”
     
    “ I have no interest dear, but I suppose I don’t want to get into trouble. Or get you into trouble either. Do you think you could help me? The eyes aren’t what they used to be,” she said.
     
    Charlotte wasn’t supposed to enter anyone’s house by herself, even when invited to do so. It was against policy, but she seemed like a sweet old lady, and it would be less hassle than trying to get in touch with Patrick and arranging to come back another night. Plus the chances of a cup of tea and a biscuit were high and Charlotte had come straight from work without any dinner, or so much as a sit down for five minutes. Charlotte stepped over the threshold, and was hit with that old person smell which has never been properly explained. Body odour perhaps, or decaying cells. A grey cat with matted fur and a bulge behind its’ left ear sidled up to her and purred quietly.
     
    “ This way dear,” said the old woman, leading the way down a darkened hall. The carpet was worn but clean, and Charlotte could just make out the pattern of lilac flowers on the wallpaper. She could feel the rough texture as she trailed a fingertip along the wall.
     
    Too late, Charlotte felt a noise behind her, and as she turned to see what it was, a hunched figure stepped out of a doorway, arm raised. Charlotte felt her knees weakening as the blow to her temple shook her brain.
     
    “ But...” she muttered, sliding to the ground “I only wanted a Rich Tea...”
     
    Patrick was embarrassed the next time he spoke to the census office. He told them that one of his team hadn’t reported her figures, but apart from that he was on track to meet his targets. Charlotte hadn’t been answering her phone, but they were cheap things, provided by the office, and held neither signal nor charge for very long. When she failed to show up on Monday for their weekly meeting at the supermarket he became angry. He discussed with Laura the failings of young people these days, with their lack of respect and responsibility. He took his job as a census coordinator very seriously – it was a civic duty.
     
    When Thursday rolled by and she still had not been in touch he became worried, and contacted the police. By then over a week had passed. Charlotte’s parents had emigrated to Australia two years previously to be with her older brother and their two grandchildren, and she lived alone in an apartment building where she knew none of her neighbours, and people kept to themselves. Some of her friends had wondered what she was up to, but not to the point where they were worried. It was typical of Charlotte to drop off the radar every so often. Busy at work, or a new boyfriend perhaps.
     
    Charlotte came to in a darkened room, with a dry throat and a dull ache at the base of her skull. The mattress she unpeeled her face from was coated in some kind of plastic and smelt musty. She had no idea where she was. Suddenly she became aware of another presence in the room, somewhere in a corner she could not see.
     
    “ We’ve been watching you dear,” said the old woman who had answered the door. “We like you, don’t we?”
     
    “ Yes we do,” said another female voice, this one also cracked and hoarse with age. “We’ve been waiting for one like you for a long time. A very long time.”
     
    Charlotte became aware of the ropes around her wrists, and a numbness at her ankles. A weight on her legs shifted, and as her eyes became accustomed to the dark she was able to shift around enough to see the cat pawing around and licking at something at the foot of the bed. She could hear the noises it made with its mouth, but for some reason she could not feel anything.
     
    “ Barnaby likes you too,” said the first old woman.
     
    “ Yes,” said the second, “He’s