A Narrow Margin of Error (26 page)

‘Hillary?’

Her name, whispered in her ear, dragged her back from the precipice.

‘I was just running it over in my mind,’ she lied, her voice back to being a little high, a little scratchy now. She forced herself to lower her tone an octave. ‘Lol. I like the sound of that. It’s manly but tender too.’

She felt his knuckles tighten in anger, making the blade slide dangerously across her skin in a second, shallow cut. ‘Don’t try and play me too much, Hillary,’ he warned harshly. ‘I don’t mind you being naughty, but don’t take me for a fool.’

Hillary froze, then forced a playful sigh. She made herself chuckle too. ‘Just testing, lover,’ she said softly.

Tom dragged in a quick, harsh breath. ‘You’re magnificent. You truly are. I want you so much it hurts.’

And with that, Hillary felt the first flash of anger lance through her. It felt more than welcome. It beat fear and despair hands down. Something finally hardened inside her.

If the bastard wanted to play, then play they would.

‘But not just yet,’ she said, her voice much sharper now, and stronger. She felt his surprise at the sudden shift in power, and knew she had to act fast to make him feel happy about it. ‘It’ll spoil it, otherwise, won’t it?’ She let her voice become cajoling now, and yet still a little teasing. ‘We’ve got more self-control and
respect for one another than to rush things, right? Nobody else would understand. They’d never have anything special like we have, and even if they did, they’d ruin it by being greedy and stupid. But not us. We’re special. Right?’

She could feel her life hanging in the balance, as she waited to know whether or not he’d bought it. And she felt a moment of utter calm.

Tom Warrington sighed noisily. Finally! After all these years of trying and failing, he’d finally done it. He’d found the one. The one who’d been made just for him.

‘I knew it. I knew you were the one. And you’re right. You’re always so right, my fabulous Hillary. It is way too early. We’ve got so much fun to have yet. Foreplay is almost the best part, isn’t it?’

Suddenly the knife and the hand were gone.

‘Don’t turn around. Don’t try and get a look. Don’t spoil it,’ he ordered. Then his lips were back at her ear, and Hillary tensed.

‘I’ll be around. And I’ll see you later.’

Hillary heard the rustling of undergrowth behind her and let out a ragged sob, which she quickly stifled with the back of her hand. She mustn’t reveal her weakness now.

She staggered forward quickly, thrusting her way past the concealing laurel and out into the car park. There she finally let her legs have their way and sank down onto her knees. For a few seconds, she stared at the backs of her hands, her mind hardly daring to believe that it was over. That she was still alive. Still breathing.

And then she watched the steady drip, drip, drip of scarlet onto the black tarmac. She was still bleeding. And he was getting away. What the hell was the matter with her? But even as she reached for her phone and speed-dialled Steven’s number, she heard a car start up somewhere on the lane, and knew that he would be long-gone before anyone else arrived.

She heard Steven’s voice, far, far away, and forced her hand to move, to bring the mobile to her mouth.

But what was it she needed to say?

‘Evidence, I’ve got evidence.’

‘Hillary?’ Steven recognized her voice at once. ‘Sorry, what was that you said?’

Hillary shook her head. She couldn’t seem to get her thoughts to line up in a straight line. They kept skittering around. ‘I’m bleeding. He had a knife to my throat. DNA evidence. Fingerprints maybe. You need to send someone.’

There. That made sense, surely?

She could hear, somewhere, a long way off, Steven’s voice, getting more and more frantic, saying something. But she couldn’t make out what it was. Besides, she was tired. Really tired. And she was suddenly feeling sort-of cold.

She let herself move forward, lying down on the sun-warmed black tarmac, letting her head rest on her forearm. She was going into shock, she knew. But that was all – she hadn’t lost nearly enough blood for it to be life-threatening. Not yet.

So she should be heading for her car, driving herself to the A&E. But here she was, curling up into a ball like a big fat baby. She had to smile. So much for growing a backbone.

Somewhere, far away, she could hear sirens coming, but she ignored it.

Because, simmering away deep down inside her, beyond the tiredness and the numbness, she could feel her anger growing, and she needed to concentrate on that now. Because that was good. She was going to need it.

Because soon, she and Lol would meet again.

And the next time they did, Hillary Greene promised herself, things would be different.

Oh yes.

They would be very different.

A NARROW ESCAPE

ON THE STRAIGHT AND NARROW

NARROW IS THE WAY

BY A NARROW MAJORITY

THROUGH A NARROW DOOR

WITH A NARROW BLADE

BESIDE A NARROW STREAM

DOWN A NARROW PATH

ACROSS THE NARROW BLUE LINE

A NARROW POINT OF VIEW

A NARROW EXIT

A NARROW RETURN