There were many kinds of drugs inside the box - drugs for all sorts of diseases - but no Novril. He just managed to reach a second box. Again he was faced with an astonishing collection of medicines. She must have taken them from hospitals day after day. Most of the drugs were in small quantities. She had been careful: she hadn't taken a lot at once because they would have caught her. He searched through the box. There at the bottom were a great many packets of Novril tablets; each packet contained eight tablets. He chewed three tablets straight away, hardly noticing the bitter taste.

How many packets could he take without her realizing that he had found the store? He took five packets and placed them down the front of his trousers, to leave his hands tree for pushing the wheels. He looked at the drugs in the box. They had not been in any particular order before he searched the box and he hoped that Annie would not notice any difference. Then, to his honor, he heard the noise of a car. He straightened in the chair, eyes wide. If it was Annie he was dead. He couldn't get back to the bedroom and lock the door in time, and be had no doubt that she would herself killing him immediately. She would forget that she didn't want to kill him before he had written Misery's Return. She would not be able to control herself. The sound of the car grew ... and then faded into the distance on the road outside. OK, you've had your warning, he thought. Now it's time to return to your room.

The next ear really could be hers. He rolled out of the bathroom, checking to make sure that he had left no tracks on the floor. How wide open had the bathroom door been? He closed it a little way. It looked right now. The drug was beginning to take effect Tell me how to do to live in your heart , so there was less pain now. His immediate need was satisfied. He was starting to turn 22 the wheelchair, so that he could roll back to his room, when he realized that he was pointing towards the sitting-room. An idea burst into his mind like a light. He could almost see the telephone; he could imagine the conversation with the police station. Would they be surprised to learn that crazy Annie Wilkes had kidnapped him? But he remembered that he had never heard the phone ring.

He knew it was unlikely that there even was a phone in the house. But the picture of the phone in his mind drove him on; he could feel the cool plastic in his hand, hear the sound of the phone in the police station. He rolled himself into the sittingroom. He looked around. The room smelled stale and was filled with ugly furniture. On a shelf was a large photograph, in a gold frame, of a woman who could only be Annie's mother. He rolled further into the room. The left side of the wheelchair hit a table which had dozens of small figures on it. One of the figures - a flying bird of some kind - fell off the edge of the table. Without thinking, Paul put out his hand and caught it - and then realized what he had done. If he had thought about it he would not have been able to do it. It was pure instinct. If the figure had landed on the floor it would have broken.

He put it back on the table. On a small table on the other side of the room stood a phone. Paul carefully made his way past the chairs and sofa. He picked up the phone. Before he put it to his ear he had an odd feeling of failure. And yes - there was no sound.