Girl A Dan Scottow (reading women .TXT) 📖

she noticed a dark figure leaning against a wall in the shadows, smoking a cigarette. The orange glow illuminating a wisp of white as it rose into the evening air.

She smelled the smoke, and screwed her face up, picking up the pace a little.

She heard footsteps.

Turning her head, she saw the figure walking behind her.

Glancing around, she noticed some teenagers kicking a glass bottle. They saw Beth watching them and scurried away up the steps towards the clifftops, giggling, leaving her alone.

The steady sound of the man’s shoes was getting louder.

He was gaining on her.

She turned; he was closer.

She sped up.

He did the same.

Beth panicked as visions of her recent car chase flashed through her mind.

Feeling sick, she fished around in her bag for a weapon. Her hand came to rest on a can of deodorant.

Better than nothing, she thought.

She slipped it out, holding it by her side.

The lights of the pier twinkled in her peripheral vision, the noises of people having fun drifted across the water.

But it all seemed so far away.

She spun around, the cannister in her outstretched arm, finger on the top, poised and ready.

The man looked confused, swerving to avoid her. He carried on walking straight past. He glanced briefly back over his shoulder, before pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket, pressing it up to his ear.

‘Hello? Yeah, weirdest thing just happened…’ Beth heard him say as he hurried away. She dropped back, embarrassed by her paranoia. She cringed as she imagined the conversation he was now having. Relaying how a strange woman had threatened him with an aerosol for no reason.

‘Get a grip!’ Beth whispered in the dark, shaking her head again.

She saw headlights coming towards her down the road, dazzling her. She held a hand up, fingers splayed over her eyes.

As the car drew nearer, she clocked a taxi sign on its roof. She waved and it pulled over.

‘Can you take me to Falmer, please? Cranbrooke Farmhouse, if you know it?’

‘Sure, hop in,’ the cabbie replied cheerfully. Beth felt instantly safer.

As she climbed into the back seat, she noticed the cabbie’s eyes on her in the rear-view mirror. They lingered a second too long, and she drew her jacket across her chest.

‘Been out on the razz?’

‘Just a gig.’

‘Oh right, anyone good?’

‘Not really.’

‘My daughter was at a gig tonight up this way.’

Beth felt embarrassed, as she tried to guess how young the cabbie’s daughter would be.

‘Surely it ain’t finished yet?’ the driver asked. ‘I’m supposed to pick her up. She said midnight.’

‘Wasn’t my cup of tea. Decided to go home early.’

The conversation trailed off, and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

Beth paid the cabbie. He thanked her and retreated down the drive to the main road. As his lights faded, so did Beth’s sense of safety.

She looked at her house, large, dark, and looming. The trees behind it swaying in the wind.

As she stepped forwards, the security light clicked on, flooding the driveway with a harsh white synthetic beam.

She cursed herself for not leaving a lamp on inside. She wasn’t used to returning to an empty home. Pulling her key from her handbag, she pushed it into the lock, but the door swung inwards before she turned it.

* * *

Beth stood frozen on the doorstep, a chasm of black stretching out ahead of her. A shaft of moonlight fell through from the kitchen, casting swirling shadows from the towering firs outside, across the floor. She waited for her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness, then stepped into the hallway, holding her breath. She crept silently along the corridor to the bottom of the stairs.

She stood, afraid to breathe, and waited.

A loud creak, then the sound of footsteps above her head from the bedroom.

Beth’s survival instincts kicked in. She turned, kicking off her heels into the hallway, running out of the front door onto the gravel. Her bare feet crunched on jagged edges, but she felt no pain, adrenaline coursing through her.

The security light sprung to life once more, as Beth sprinted across the driveway.

She afforded herself a glance over her shoulder and saw in horror a dark figure illuminated by the moonlight in an upstairs window.

She turned down the side of the house and headed towards the old barn. She heard the front door clatter against the inside wall, and the loud crunch of boots on gravel. He was coming.

Running fast.

Beth reached the stable doors and quickly lifted the latch as quietly as she could. She slipped through the gap, closing the heavy wooden door behind her. She knew she didn’t have long. Whoever was chasing was close. She dropped to her knees, running her hands over the floorboards, searching for the trapdoor down to the crawlspace below.

If you didn’t know it was there, you would never see it.

She slipped her fingers into a gap at the edge, lifting up the hatch. She eased herself below the stable building, lowering the panel down above her head.

A crunch of stones outside the door.

There wasn’t much room to move. A roll of thick plastic filled most of the area. Charlie had used it to repair the shed roof last summer. Holding her breath, she peered up through cracks in the floorboards, her face almost pressed against the underside of the planks.

She watched and waited.

The metal latch clicked, and the door creaked open. There was a series of thuds on the wooden floor as someone stepped into the barn.

Footsteps above her, as the person moved slowly around.

Beth heard a click.

Slithers of light fell through the cracks as a torch was shone around the building. She winced., sucking in a little air. Too afraid to breathe properly.

He was directly above her now.

Dust fell down from the boards into Beth’s eyes as the figure shifted weight from one foot to the other. She blinked through the pain.

She heard slow and steady breathing. The torch beam swooped over the ground again.

Beth remained as still as she could.

Silent.

The light shone directly downwards now, through