Page 69 of The House Swap

She needed to get the hell away from the Pritchards, before they came after her.

24

Poppy didn’t stop to think, stumbling down the road in a blind rush, desperate to put distance between herself and the Pritchards.

The night air was fresh, a brisk wind battering her bare arms, and the cold gravel was biting the soles of her feet, but there wasn’t time to stop and put her boots on.

Not yet.

In the distance behind her, she could hear Sue still calling.

Ian too, she thought, though it was difficult to tell.

She didn’t dare stop and look back.

The blood pounded in her ears and her world narrowed to the uneven track ahead, pale in the moonlight, as she ran towards the coast road.

She needed to get away. From Sue and Ian, from the villa… From the cellar.

Even though she was now out in the open, she couldn’t escape that cool, damp, oppressive odour of stone and cork, or the memory of Ian watching her, the glint of silver in his hand, held just out of sight. And she could still feel Sue’s presence behind, the sound of her voice in the dark, almost taunting.

This is where he likes to keep his favourite things.

The words crawled over Poppy’s skin, as they conjured up the worst of images, and she picked up pace, even as her breath tore painfully in and out of her lungs.

What would they have done to her if she hadn’t escaped? Had they planned to keep her locked in the cellar?

She had reached the lane that led downhill towards the sea now. The olive trees on either side were little more than black shapes as she tore past them, their branches stirring restlessly in the wind. Further below, beyond the darkness, the waves thrashed against the shore; a ceaseless sound as they continued to rise and fall.

They would come after her, she was certain of it. Ian had stayed sober while plying her with alcohol, knowing it would be easier to control her. And she had seen their cellar. Knew what they were intending. They couldn’t risk her getting away.

But there was no one around to help her.

She didn’t stop running until she reached the coast road. There she bent forward, hands braced on her thighs, dragging in air that tasted of salt, cold stone and the sour aftermath of panic.

Down here, it was noisier because of the sea, and although a few scattered streetlights lined the road, they were spaced far apart, leaving long stretches swallowed by darkness.

She looked warily over her shoulder, frightened in case she saw headlights or Ian running down the hill after her. Her whole body was shaking, and she hugged herself tightly, trying to steady the wild beating of her heart, but there was nothing.

The road was empty, the darkness unbroken.

For the first time since she had left the Pritchards’ villa, doubt crept in.

Had she got it wrong?

She thought back to the dinner. Sue sitting uncomfortably close, the moments when both her and Ian had touched her.

Poppy had never been good with people getting in her personal space. Especially when she didn’t know them that well.

Then there were all the questions. About being alone at the villa, about her friendship with Jem.

But had she been too sensitive?

They had spoken about other things too. Her job and their family back home. It hadn’t all been sinister.

Still, it had been odd Ian staying sober – especially for a man who was so into his wine – and it had seemed he was determined to get Poppy drunk.

As for the cellar, she felt she hadn’t overreacted. They had insisted on taking her down there and she had seen the way Ian had looked at her, in a way that had made her skin crawl.