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The streetlights are sporadic in this part of White Cross yet there’s still some light coming from behind her. At first, she thinks it must be from an approaching car’s headlights, but no car overtakes. Glancing over her shoulder again, Jennie sees there is a car a little way back down the lane. It’s travelling very slowly, maybe five miles an hour, ten at most. It’s hard to tell, but the shape of the headlights makes her think it’s the same one as before.
Weird.
She feels on edge, unsure what to do next. The road is getting narrower and the houses more spaced out. The pavement finishes on her side of the road, replaced with a high hedge. There are no pedestrians on the pavement opposite, the rain keeping people inside. No one to call out to for help. Jennie grips the handlebars tighter. She’s cycled these roads for over thirty years, but she’s never felt as vulnerable as she does right now.
She hears the rev of an engine behind her. The headlights illuminating the tarmac are coming closer. Jennie looks round again, the bike wobbling beneath her as she turns. The car is only a few metres behind her now, but it doesn’t overtake, instead it matches her pace.
Her heart starts racing.
What are they doing?
She twists in her saddle, trying to see who’s driving, but the face is in shadow, the darkness and rain blocking her view. Jennie curses. Her heart is pounding so hard it feels as if it’s going to burst through her chest.
The car draws closer still. Its bumper is now barely a metre from her back wheel. It’s so close she can feel the heat from the engine.
Why are they …? Shit.
Panicked, Jennie pedals faster, trying to put more distance between herself and the vehicle. But it’s futile. The car matches her pace.
They’re toying with me. Trying to intimidate me.
She doesn’t need this, not today, not after everything that’s happened.
Jennie feels a rush of fury. Yanking her handlebars to the left, she brakes hard, stopping at the side of the road against the hedge. Behind her, the car skids to a halt, then reverses back about ten metres.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ she yells at the car. ‘You could have killed me.’
The car sits there, its lights shining directly at her. The engine purrs.
Fear rises within her. She’s trapped. There’s no pavement on this side of the lane, and the high hedge means the only way to escape is to cross the road in front of the vehicle.
With shaking hands, Jennie grapples with the straps of her rucksack, trying to get to her phone, but her fingers are numb from the pelting rain and adrenaline is making her clumsy. She yells towards the car, ‘I’m calling the police.’
There’s no response. No movement. Jennie peers through the rain, but it’s too wet and too dark to get a proper look at the car. She still can’t see the driver, and the number plate light is out, so she can’t read that either.
Finally, her fingers undo the rucksack and she pulls out her phone. She holds it up towards the car, ready to record them.
Suddenly, the vehicle’s full beams flick on. The engine roars and the car lurches forward, accelerating rapidly towards her.
Jennie freezes.
The headlights dazzle her.
There’s nowhere to take cover. No way of escaping.
She braces herself for impact. Closes her eyes.
Jennie hears the car swerve at the last moment. Opens her eyes to see it miss her by inches. A shower of spray cascades over her as the car speeds away along the lane.
Jennie’s heart pounds. Who the hell were they? Had they been following her? Or was her imagination playing tricks? She can’t be sure it was the same car as earlier. Maybe it was just bored teenagers messing about for kicks and dares. That’s the most likely explanation, isn’t it?
Getting back onto her bike, Jennie’s thankful that she’s less than a minute from her mum’s house now. But as she cycles along the lane two questions repeat in her mind.
Did they just try to drive me off the road?
Is my life in danger?
Chapter 9
