It was a familiar children's tale, one that had scared Suzie as a teenager but no longer. She did not know why it suddenly crept into her mind as she looked at the porcelain doll in the charity shop. Something about it unnerved her. The way it looked. The way its eyes seemed to move. 'Suzie, I'm on the first step, I'm coming to get ya!'

'I would love this doll for my collection,' her mother in law said. Suzie had got married a year ago. This woman was possibly the biggest strain on her marriage. She was 70 years old but was far below it in maturity.

'Won't you get it for me, Suzie?'

'I don't like the look of it, Dora. It's creepy,' Suzie said.

Dora gave her a filthy glance. 'What is wrong with you? It's only £10. I'll pay you back next week.' Suzie knew this was unlikely, but nonetheless her husband thought the world of his mother. She didn't want to upset him. Or her. And besides, she thought, £10 wasn't very much in the scheme of things. Not when she considered how much she had already lent Dora.

The resentments built up inside her. Was this how relationships started to die? Perhaps marrying him had been a mistake. In fact she knew it was. She was only adding the 'perhaps' because she had been kidding herself. He snored. He picked his nose and his mum had a creepy obsession with porcelain dolls.

Divorce was a terrifying word.

But even more terrifying was the idea of staying with him.

Reluctantly she made her way to the till. Only ten pounds for a porcelain doll? What did Dora want with this old thing anyway?

The man at the antique shop peered at her.

'Why are you buying this?' he sneered.

'It's for my mother in law,' Suzie said.

'Well, don't you know it's a fake? It's not real porcelain. Come into the back room and I'll show you my collection.' He leaned close to her. A little too close.

'I'd rather not.' In a back room with creepy, supercilious antique dealer and his even creepier collection of dolls? It didn't seem like her idea of fun. Suzie had always hated dolls.

'Well, if you're sure,' he said, as she handed over the tenner. 'If you're happy buying a fake. I should have burnt it, you know.'

Suzie handed over the money. She found Dora at the back, gazing at what purported to be a collection of shrunken heads.

'We're not buying those,' she snapped. 'Come on.'

'No need to be so rude,' Dora said. 'What's wrong with you? I think these are fascinating!'

'I don't.' Suzie walked out of the shop. After another minute or two, Dora followed.

'I'm not giving you money to buy shrunken heads,' Suzie said. 'Here's your doll.'

Dora could hardly bring herself to say 'thank you'. Not for the first time she wondered what possessed her precious son to marry such a woman. He could do far better. Maybe one day he would. He could find a nice woman who would cook him meals every day and iron his shirts. That's what he needed. It was a cruel world out there. She could sense Suzie gritting her teeth as she climbed beside her into the passenger's seat. She held the new doll on her lap, anxious as to what could happen if it was placed on the back seat. It could break.

Fifteen minutes later, Dora climbed out of the front seat with her doll. It was a relief for both of them.

That evening, as Suzie lay in bed listening to her husband's snoring and hoping she would pass out soon enough, she heard a noise.

And then a voice. A strange, high-pitched, raspy voice.

'Suzie, I'm on the first step. I'm coming to get you.'

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the pillow. The noise seemed to vanish. Perhaps she could get some sleep now.

'Suzie, I'm on the first step. I'm coming to get you.'

She was too tired. She rarely got any sleep these days. It was driving her crazy. She would have to sit down with him and talk about these problems. She would have to tell him she wanted a divorce. She got herself out of bed and went to the bathroom.

It was nothing, she told herself. Just her imagination.

'Suzie. I'm on the first step. I'm coming to get you.'

The voice was louder this time. It made her jump. Was there someone in the house? Shaking, she walked past the staircase. She would have to wake up her husband. She dared not look.

Sitting on the first step she saw a small figure dressed in old fashioned clothes, with a round, shiny face. There was a knife in its hand.