She Must Go

Chapter 45

SCARLETT

We lock eyes. Adrenaline pulses through me. Justin glares at me. I push away from the table. Blue perks up at the sound of the chair legs scraping the floor. He sits up and howls like a wolf. I dash around the table, bolt through the open door and slip outside before Justin can come after me.

I run straight away from the house, past the stables and along the familiar course I’ve walked with Hattie a couple of times.

Damn! I should’ve made for the front of the house – for the lane.

I glance over my shoulder. Justin pelts out of the kitchen door after me, Blue on his tail, blocking my path of escape.

I make for the wooded area towards the rear of the lake, hoping I can lose myself in there and double back to the house, then the lane.

Thank God, I ditched my flip-flops for my trainers.

I look behind me again. Justin is fast, closing on me.

Blue continues to follow his master, bouncing around as if he thinks it’s a game.

I plough into the unkempt bramble of the woods, searching for a place to hide until he has passed. That’s my only hope.

As I move deeper into the woods, bramble grabs at my ankles and calves, and my footing becomes less sure.

It’s much darker in here, the canopy of trees blocking out what daylight remains.

Another glance over my shoulder. Neither Justin nor Blue is in view.

I must have lost them. I stop, catching my breath.

Nothing. As my eyes adjust to the dark, I belch.

That lemonade sloshes in my stomach. I shouldn’t have guzzled it.

Blue barks. They’re near. Scanning my surroundings, I make for a fallen oak tree.

I race around it, looking for somewhere to hide.

At the rear side is the smallest of hollows.

Dropping down on my hands and knees, I crawl into its cavity and wait.

The smell of rotting wood turns my stomach.

I try to control my breathing and listen. The only sound is the call of a bird.

I wait. Petrified. It feels like I’ve been holed up in here for hours, but it’s only minutes.

I still need to navigate my way to the lane.

To freedom. A branch snaps. Is that him, Blue, or some nocturnal animal making its rounds?

There it is again, coming closer. I try to cover myself with a leafy branch, worried my scent will alert the dog.

Closer now. A beam of light, probably from his phone, bounces off the trees around me.

I’ve cornered myself. I ball my hand into a fist and ram it into my mouth.

The light is close now. A pair of legs stand a mere ten feet away.

‘Imogen, stop playing games. Come out. Let’s have a grown-up conversation about this. You’ve obviously spooked yourself.’

I remain silent. Still.

‘This is silly.’ His voice is even, controlled. ‘We’re miles from anywhere. You’re going to get yourself hurt. Just come out.’

Nausea overcomes me. Bile reaches the base of my throat. I will myself to remain still. I turn my ear to a sniffing sound. Blue is foraging around. He’s uncomfortably close. His snout burrows around the entrance to my hiding place. He exhales loudly then backs off. Then he’s gone.

I hold my breath. Justin and Blue wander off.

I can’t quite believe they didn’t find me.

I give it a few minutes and chance poking my head out of the opening.

The gleam of the torch fades into the distance.

I let out a sigh of relief but know I’m far from safe yet.

Crawling out on my forearms and knees, I drag myself to my feet and make my way towards the back of the woods.

Eventually, I come across a footworn path that skirts the perimeter of the grounds and back towards the house and the sanctuary of the lane.

I have no option but to take this route.

I pick up pace, finding myself at the rear of the new stables.

Sneaking around the side, I make a bad mistake: I scoot across the front of the house, where a security light blasts out, engulfing me in its flare.

Beth said there were only security lights out the back of the house.

The liar! Justin is standing there, Blue by his side.

‘Ah! You’re back.’ He must’ve known I’d have had to come this way to escape.

‘Let’s go inside. You aren’t thinking straight. ’

I stand for a moment, considering my options. None of them involve doing what he wants. I bolt like I’m at the start of a race, flying around the side of the house and up the gravel driveway. My feet pound, thudding and crunching. I glance over my shoulder. Justin’s nowhere to be seen.

I reach the lane. The air smells of bushes and warm road, a smell I usually love at this time of the year, but now it clogs my throat.

I run hard, knees high, my trainers sliding on the baked ground.

Thank God I’m fit. It gives me hope. But my legs aren’t doing what I tell them.

I can’t run as fast as usual. The lemonade gurgles in my stomach, repeating on me and leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

A dog barks in the distance. I think it’s Blue, but I can’t be sure.

I look over my shoulder. All I can see are the tall oak and pine trees that surround their property, silent witnesses keeping their secrets.

I keep going, through the overgrown branches of the trees that meet in an arch, stealing the last of the evening light.

An engine rumbles. The deep, throaty roar of Justin’s car.

I glance back. His Porsche appears, speeding towards me, lurching as he shifts gear.

I reckon I can outrun him, but not the bloody car.

Another dense wooded area breaks off from the lane.

I lost him once. I’ll do it again. I veer into it, weaving between bracken and tree stumps.

The last of the sun bleeds into the ground.

The lemonade rushes up my throat. I swallow the bitter taste.

Behind me, car tyres screech to a halt. I turn as I run, arms flailing.

He has ditched the car and is now after me on foot.

I’m running full pelt now, propelled by Daisy’s face.

And what he did to her. He killed her and dumped her body by that canal.

Made it look like an overdose. An accident. Oh, Daisy.

His voice echoes around the woods, bouncing off the trees to haunt me. ‘Imogen!’ His voice is deep, authoritative. Menacing. ‘Imogen!’

He is quick, but not enough to gain on me.

Not yet, anyway. A bramble cuts my face as I negotiate a narrow, bushy path, breaking out into an opening.

On the horizon, I spot a house. It must be about a mile away.

If only I could just make it there. But I’m fading.

The power in my legs is inexplicably failing me.

My knees are loose. I stumble every few strides.

This isn’t me. I run miles further than this.

The fear is winning. I can’t let it. Low, throaty cries escape from my mouth, lingering in the thick air.

I can’t go on. I stop in a clearing to catch my breath. The woods are quiet save the steady song of grasshoppers in the hedgerow and the sound of my lungs gasping for air. An owl calls from somewhere deep in the woods.

‘Imogen,’ he calls. I resume running. His footsteps grow louder, thumping along the ground, crashing towards me.

He’s close now, very close, but I can’t carry on.

I stop, bending over, retching. A surge of sickly-sweet lemonade shoots from my mouth onto the bush below.

I wrap my arms around me as more comes up.

There isn’t time for this. It must be the stress.

With a line of drool dripping from my mouth, I force myself to continue moving.

I have to get away. But it’s a struggle, as if my legs and my mind are playing different games. I glance behind me. He’s gaining on me.

‘Imogen, you might as well stop. You aren’t going anywhere,’ he calls, his voice clear, unaffected by the strenuous exercise. It’s as if he is biding his time, knowing he is going to catch me.

I trip on a rogue tree root and fall to my knees. My head is muddled, my vision blurry. I can’t get up.

He spiked my drink.

I try to stand, but I face-plant onto the hard, sun-baked ground.

I’ve been drugged. Just like my sister.

I roll over and stare up.

He stands over me. My breaths come hard and fast, as the world around me turns black and disappears.