Page 45 of The Taskmaster
I went back outside, scanning the street in both directions to see if I could see her, but she wasn’t there. So, I took my phoneout to check the tracker she had in her pocket. It showed her position to be a little way down the road, but when I glanced that way, I saw the bus at the stop. And then the tracker started moving faster as the bus pulled off and made its way down the road.
She’d bailed on me.
Left the café and run away.
But the question was, was she running from the black Mercedes or me?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ABIGAIL
Iwasn’t in the right headspace today to deal with good-looking, tattooed IT guys who magically appeared in the coffee shop I was in. Yeah, I still didn’t buy his whole ‘happy coincidence’ line, but I had bigger things to think about. Bigger things to deal with too, despite still having the head from hell after whatever that was that’d happened last night. Maybe I was burning the candle at both ends and needed to take a break. After tonight, I would. But tonight, I was ready to put to bed one of the last loose ends from my past. Not quitethelast, but I’d find that one soon enough.
I checked myself in the mirror one last time and felt satisfied with my outfit, all black with a hoodie to hide my face if I needed it. I zipped it up, picked up my backpack, and then headed out. I peered up and down the corridor to make sure no one was out there, then locked my front door securely behind me.
I’d booked a taxi to drop me off outside the café I’d seen Isaiah in earlier. The bus was too risky; too many people could identify me if it ever came to that, and there was CCTV on buses. This cab didn’t have any of that, and the guy dropping me offwasn’t chatty. He just wanted to take me to my destination and get the fare. It suited me just fine.
Once he parked up and I paid him, I got out and waited for him to pull away. Then I put my hood up and began to walk.
It was dark now, and there weren’t many cars on the roads. I turned into the street I’d walked down earlier today, and then onto the avenue that became a country lane. On any other day, I’d have enjoyed this walk. It was a nice area. But today, I could only focus on one thing. The rundown cottage that stood at the end of it. A cottage that looked unlived in and probably hadn’t seen a visitor at its door for years. The cottage was why I was here, and the woman who lived inside it.
The lane became more barren and deserted the farther I went, and I could see a gentle glow coming from inside the cottage, lighting my way. There were no streetlamps down this end of the lane, and I was glad for the light guiding me.
I approached the cottage cautiously, ducking down when I got to the stone wall, and then crawling to the back of the property. It was so overgrown out back that I hissed more than once as the brambles pierced my skin and the nettles stung me, but it was a small price to pay. Once I reached the rear of the property, I slowly opened the back gate and crept inside.
It was even more overgrown inside, which worked to my advantage, and I darted stealthily across the grass. I pressed myself against the wall of the cottage once I made it there, hiding in the shadows as best I could. Then, I took out a pair of scissors that I’d brought from home, which were hidden in my pocket, and knelt to cut through the wires for the telephone lines. I left the electrics, so her lights wouldn’t go out. I didn’t want to freak her out, and I didn’t want to die of an electric shock. No, the phone lines were enough. She was cut off from the world out here anyway. The landline was her only source of communication, as far as I could tell. And now, she had none.
I took a moment to stand and listen in the stillness of the night. There were no sounds coming from inside. No muted radio or television noises. But I knew she was home. I’d peered through the back window as secretly as I could, and I could see the back of her head as she sat in an armchair. Outside, all I could hear was the gentle swish of the breeze through the trees. Her neighbours lived far enough away that they didn’t even count as neighbours. This cottage was perfect.
I walked back across the garden, making sure to stay in the shadows, and then I let myself out of the gate. Slowly, I picked my way around the perimeter of the stone wall until I came to the little gate at the front. I did one quick glance around to make sure I was alone, and then I opened the gate, entering the small front garden, and made my way down the overgrown, thorny path.
As I reached the front door, I took a fortifying breath, raised my hand and knocked on the door.
A quiet shuffle of activity sounded from inside, and then a low voice asked, “Who is it?” from behind the door. I noticed the worn and tatty net curtain at the window beside the doorway fluttering slightly, like she’d peered out but not enough to be seen. She was wary, but she’d still come to the door to ask who I was—that was a good start.
“I’m sorry to bother you this late at night,” I said in my most sincere voice. “But I really need your help.”
“I don’t buy anything at the door,” she snapped, showing her true colours, but I cut her off.
“I’m not selling anything. I just need to use your phone. Mine has gone dead and I think someone is following me. Please. I’m really scared,” I added, playing to any sympathy she might have.
“I don’t have a phone,” she lied, showing me she clearly had no sympathy at all. I already knew that. I don’t know why I expected anything less.
“Could I at least come in for a few minutes to charge my mobile phone then?” I asked. I wasn’t giving up.
“I don’t have a phone charger,” she shot back.
“I do.” Silence for a few seconds, then I added, “Please. I wouldn’t knock if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“Go to one of the neighbours,” she barked. Jeez, this woman was trying my patience.
“I tried, but no one answered. You’re the first person to speak to me. Please,” I begged, tapping lightly on the door again.
I heard her curse behind the door, then the clattering of metal as her key fitted into the lock. And then the door creaked open, and a haggard face peered back at me as the smell of burning incense wafted from inside the house.
“Two minutes. That’s all you’ve got. Then you’ve gotta go,” she said, and stood back, opening the door to me, but peering into the darkness behind, like she expected to see someone else appear.
“Thank you.” I made prayer hands and stepped into her cottage. “I’ll be gone before you know it.”
