Take Two (A psychological thriller)

Waites rubbed his nose with his left hand and then reached for the back of her neck. Carolyn knocked his hand away. ‘Don’t touch me, Martin.’

‘Come on, honey. What’s wrong?’

‘Fuck off, Martin!’

Waites grinned. ‘Playing hard to get, huh?’ He laughed and rubbed his nose again.

Carolyn noticed for the first time how red and bleary his eyes were. She opened the door and climbed out. ‘Screw you!’ she shouted and slammed the door.  She slung her bag over her shoulder and began to walk away from the car.

Waites wound down the window. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Get back in the car.’

‘Sod off!’ shouted Carolyn, still walking.

 ‘Carolyn, this is a complete overreaction,’ said Waites. ‘Just calm down, I’ll drive you home and I won’t say another word.’

Carolyn stopped and turned around. ‘Screw you,’ she said. ‘I’ve never, ever, slept with anybody to get where I am and I’m bloody well not going to start now. And definitely not with a spineless little shit like you.’

He opened the door and got out of the Porsche. ‘Just get back in the car,’ he said.

Carolyn pointed at him. ‘Get away from me,’ she said. ‘You come near me and I’ll call the police and tell them you’ve got cocaine on you.’

His face hardened. ‘You stupid cow!’

‘Yeah, well, I guess I’m off your to-do list,’ she said. She started walking again.

She heard the car door slam and a few seconds later the car drove off down the road.

She didn’t look around, but as the car disappeared into the night she became aware of just how dark it was. There was a sliver of a moon overhead and plenty of stars but there were trees all around her and she could barely see fifty feet in front of her. She fished her mobile phone out of her bag and pressed the screen. The light seemed blindingly bright and she had to squint at it.  No bars. Not one.  ‘Of course there’s no signal,’ she muttered to herself. ‘How could there be? That would just make it too bloody easy, wouldn’t it?’

She stood at the side of the road, trying to remember how far they’d driven since they’d passed a house. A couple of miles, maybe. There had been a farmhouse. And a couple of cottages, but so far as she could remember all of them had been in darkness. She started walking, wondering what the odds were of a car driving by at that time of night. Probably not good, she decided. She walked as quickly as she could but the Prada shoes and McCartney dress weren’t designed for trekking along a country road at night and after a few minutes her feet were hurting.  She realised she had made a big mistake getting out of the car, but she had been so annoyed at the way Waites had behaved she figured she hadn’t had any choice. With hindsight she realised she should have just sat there and made him drive her home. Her right foot twisted on the uneven surface and she cursed. She checked her phone again. Still no signal.

The road ahead curved to the left and as she reached the bend she saw a house ahead of her.  She smiled thinly when she saw the lights were on. ‘Please be home,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Please, please, please.’

She could see a high brick wall through the trees. Beyond the wall the land sloped upwards and the house was at the top of the slope.

She walked down the road and reached a set of black wrought iron gates set between two ten-feet tall brick pillars. She tried to open the gates but there must have been an electronic mechanism and they wouldn’t budge.  From where she was standing she couldn’t see the house. The driveway curved around to the right and there were lines of bushes either side. She looked around for a doorbell or intercom but there was nothing. There was a letterbox set into the brick pillar on the left, along with a brass plate that read ‘No Junk Mail’. She stood back and wondered if she had any alternative other than to climb over the gate.  The walls were too high and there was nothing to hold on to, but at least the ornate wrought iron provided handholds and footholds.  She sighed and took off her shoes, then pushed them through the gate, along with her bag. She hitched her skirt up around her waist and began to climb. It wasn’t as difficult as she’d imagined, though she had to be careful not to snag her dress as she went over the top. Once she reached the other side she smoothed down her dress, put her shoes back on, picked up her bag and headed up the driveway.