‘I’m fine,’ she said, sitting straighter. ‘Just a bit … freaked out.’
‘Thank you for trusting me,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t sure you would at first.’
‘You look like her,’ Allie said. ‘Like Rachel, I mean. So … I believe you.’
For the first time he smiled, his eyes on the road. ‘Don’t tell her that. Her mum’s the pretty one in the family.’
He looked nicer when he smiled, and Allie felt herself relax a little.
‘What happened?’ he said. ‘We left your house two hours ago and everything was fine.’
‘You were at my house?’ Allie tensed again.
‘Not inside.’ He seemed to sense her anxiety and his voice was calming. ‘Just nearby. Isabelle asked me to keep an eye on you. One of us has been there – one of my guys – every day.’
Rachel had told her he ran a security firm – one so respected it was used by presidents and business executives. Other than that she didn’t really know anything about him, except that he went to Cimmeria when he was a kid.
As hard as she tried to remember seeing him or anyone like him on her street, Allie came up with nothing. The idea that she’d been watched all the time gave her the creeps.
‘Everything was fine,’ she said. ‘There was nobody outside when I went to the park. When I came back, though, those guys were just standing around my street. They recognised me.’
‘Did they try to grab you?’ He glanced at her.
She shook her head. ‘They said they wanted to talk to me. But I didn’t believe them,’ she said. ‘I ran. They never touched me.’
‘Good girl.’
Hearing approval in his voice, Allie felt a flush of unexpected pride.
‘I’m surprised you got away from them, though,’ he said. ‘They’re very good at what they do.’
Her shrug was modest. ‘I’m kind of fast. I ran where I thought they might have trouble following me.’
‘And you wore black,’ he said.
‘Isabelle told me to wear it at night, just in case.’
He pulled on to the M25, glancing into the side mirror to make sure the way was clear.
‘I’m sorry she was right,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ Allie replied, slipping further down into her seat, and watching the cars slip behind them as he sped up. Now that she was warm and safe, all the adrenaline drained from her body. Her eyelids drooped.
‘What about my parents?’ she asked, weariness making her voice thick.
‘Isabelle will phone them and explain,’ he said. ‘They’ll know you’re safe.’
Allie rested her head against the seatback.
‘Good,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t want them to be scared.’
In a few minutes she was asleep.
A cool breeze woke her some time later. She sat up with a start.
The car wasn’t moving. The driver’s side door was open – she was alone.
The night around her seemed unnaturally quiet after London. There were no sounds of traffic. No sirens. She could hear low voices nearby – a man and a woman talking quietly.
Sitting up, she ran her hands through her mussed hair.
‘You’re certain no one followed you?’ the woman asked.
‘Positive,’ Rachel’s dad replied.
‘Poor thing. She must be exhausted,’ the woman said. ‘I didn’t wake Rachel; we can tell her in the morning.’
Allie opened the car door and their conversation stopped.
Mr Patel was talking to a woman with light brown hair and fair skin. She wore jeans and a long blue cardigan, which she’d belted tight across her torso.
‘Um … hi,’ Allie said, uncertainly.
‘Allie,’ Mr Patel said, ‘this is Rachel’s mum, Linda.’
It was so dark around them, Allie could see very little. She could just make out the shape of a building behind them – one light on in a ground-floor room. An open door.
She was still trying to orient herself when Mrs Patel put her arm around her shoulders and ushered her to the house. ‘I think it’s a cup of hot chocolate and bed for you, Allie. I’ve put a few of Rachel’s things in your room – they might be a bit big but you should be able to make them work. It’s only for a short time anyway.’
A steaming mug was placed in her tired hands then Mrs Patel led her up a flight of stairs to a spacious room with thick cream-coloured carpet and pale yellow walls. The lamp by the bed cast the room in a soft light and the double bed, covered in a lemony duvet, was made and turned down.
‘The bathroom is there.’ Mrs Patel pointed at a door. ‘And the clothes I’ve left you are in the dresser. Make yourself at home. Rachel will come to get you in the morning and bring you down to breakfast. Sleep well. We’ll talk it all over in the morning.’ With a reassuring smile, she closed the door behind her.
Allie sat on the bed for a long moment. She knew she should get up and wash her face. Find something to sleep in. Figure out where exactly she was.
Instead she kicked off her shoes and lay back against the pillows. Then, rolling on to her side, she curled up into a tight ball and counted her breaths.
THREE
‘Welcome back.’ After running lightly down the old stone stairs in front of the intimidating Victorian brick building that held Cimmeria Academy, Isabelle le Fanult pulled Allie into a warm hug. ‘I’m so glad to see you in one piece!’