He never saw the change in Sarah's face or the tiny adjustment of her balance. He completely missed the wide upward sweep of her right hand and the murderous look of determination and disgust that was etched on her face.

The searing pain as her palm slashed across his face was the first he knew of any change of plan. The slap had the full weight of her body behind it and threw him across the room to collapse in a heap on the couch he'd just gloated over.

His yelp of pain was sudden, loud and anguished. A bright red wheal marked his face where she had struck him.

"You bitch", he spluttered, in a daze struggling back to his feet determined to grab her. But he was too slow and in an instant, she was out of the door and disappearing down the dingy corridor towards safety. The computer disk she had snatched from his hand was now held in hers.

Realising this was no time to take the creaky old lift, Sarah dashed for the stairs at the end of the corridor. To either side there were the sounds of overcrowded families. Smells of cooking blended with the cry of babies and the screams of mothers berating errant offspring. Wallpaper peeled everywhere and the carpet smelt of urine and was worn and slippery. With a rising panic, she barged through the heavy door at the end to the menacing sound of the youth's feet pounding down the corridor.

One deserted flight of stairs passed and she was still ahead. But he was taking three or four steps at layers of grime had cut off most of the light during the years of neglect since the building's slip shod conversion in the early 60's. Dust collected in corners and on the window sill.

The carving knife he held glinted in the meagre light. He slowed to a stop and then moved cautiously towards her. Out of breath, his face was still flushed and obviously still smarting from her slap. But he had something else in his demeanour now. He was viciously determined.

"No smart arse bitch does that to me", he snarled. "You think you're a step above everyone else. You always did. Well you'll get yours now. I'm going to cut your bitch clothes off and screw you into the stairs - and that's just for starters. See how classy you are then." The knife was angled towards her throat.

"One step further and I'll scream the place down. You just can't do this sort of thing. You'll never get away with it" hissed Sarah.

"If you think anybody around here gives a damn, forget it. They'll not get involved!" A sneer crossed his face. "Anyway, the money I got from screwing your company will see me out of here today for a nice long holiday. You've got one more chance, woman. He reached his hand down and crudely cupped his bulge. Drop them and take it nicely. I might let you go with hardly a scratch if you are very nice. Else …" He lunged forward with the knife in a short stabbing motion like he'd seen them do in the films to emphasise what would happen if she didn't. Sarah shrank back wishing the wall would open up behind her and let her disappear into it.