Page 77 of One Step Behind
In the back of my mind I know this is a panic attack. I’m a doctor and I know I’m going to be OK. I fight to bring the knowledge forward, to slow my breathing.
Then a sob catches in my throat and I breathe again before covering my mouth with my hands. Shoulders heaving up and down, tears welling in my eyes and falling down my cheeks.
I force myself to look at the glass doors again and the still of the garden beyond. A part of me wants to snatch up the phone and call the police, but I’m not sure what I saw. My thoughts are jumbled and dream-like.
I catch sight of my reflection in the glass and don’t recognize the broken face of the woman staring back at me. My cheeks are red, but the skin beneath my eyes is dark grey, like smudged eyeliner. I look like I haven’t slept for a week.
What was out there? A fox? A person?
My hands are shaking so hard I can barely grip the door handle, but I do and despite the fear rampaging through my body, I unlock the door and step outside.
The air is cooler than it has been for weeks and heavy with the smell of the salty estuary.
‘Who’s there?’ I call out into the silent night, swinging the torch light from my phone towards the fences and searching for any movement.
I inch further into the garden, away from the safety of the kitchen, but there’s nothing out here.
I’m turning around, back to the house, when my torch catches on something on the ground near the fence. I step closer. It’s a pile of sticks. They’re leaning against each other like a miniature bonfire, and that’s what it is, I realize. A small fire ready to be lit.
Last time you came into my garden, you burnt thegrass with weedkiller. This time you were going to set a bonfire. Except it can’t be you. You might be sending emails, but there’s no way you’re capable of running across my lawn and jumping over the fence with a broken leg.
The thought rears up so fast this time it’s like a punch to my gut. I’ve been thinking it for days, ever since I was smacked down on the pavement outside and my bag was taken; but thinking something and knowing something are two very different things. Here is the proof staring me in the face – someone is helping you.
Chapter 46
Sophie, aged fifteen
‘What do you mean?’ Sophie asks, the smile fading on her face. The bounce she felt on the way to school that morning drops, becomes a dead weight, rooting her to the spot. ‘I’m saying I can come tonight.’
Flick opens her locker before glancing at Vicky, the pair sharing one of their stupid looks.
‘It’s just …’ Flick shrugs, pulling out a book from her locker and closing it again. ‘My mum said I can only have one person over to get ready with me. We’re not saying you can’t go to the club or anything, are we, Vicky?’
‘No, course not. It’ll be great if you can come,’ Vicky chips in, making it sound anything but.
‘But last week you said I could come to yours first,’ Sophie says, hating how whiny she sounds.
‘Sorry. My mum’s changed her mind.’
‘Oh.’ Sophie bites her lip, fighting the tears building behind her eyes. ‘Never mind. I guess I’ll see you guys there then.’
‘How will you get home?’ Vicky asks.
‘What do you mean? I thought your dad was collecting us.’
‘Yeah, but you said you weren’t coming so I’ve offered Reece and Graham a lift home. My dad can only fit four of us in his car.’
Sophie smiles like it doesn’t even matter. ‘I’ll figure something out.’
The bell for registration clangs above their heads. ‘See you later, yeah?’ Flick says, hooking arms with Vicky and heading for their classroom.
‘Sure.’ Sophie scoops up her bag and walks away.
But Sophie doesn’t see them later. Not properly anyway. Flick and Vicky don’t turn up to their usual spot by the trees at break, or lunch. They don’t even wait for her before lining up for food like they normally do. Sophie sees them eating chips and gravy in the canteen and messing around with Reece and Graham.
That’s why they don’t want Sophie to go tonight – she’ll spoil their foursome. Maybe she should go anyway. Get a bus to the club and walk home if she has to. She could wear something really amazing and look ten times better than Flick and then Reece would fancy her again.
Except Sophie can’t do that. She doesn’t have anything amazing to wear. She doesn’t even have any make-up because her mum says she’s too young. She was planning to borrow Flick’s, but now she can’t.
