‘How? You mean with the passengers?’
‘I was told they were going on holiday. As I said, the guy told me very little. My instructions were clear. Pick them up and drive to the airport. As I walked up the steps and climbed into the driver’s seat, I got the smell. It nearly knocked me out. I’ll never get it out of my clothes. That was the first thing I noticed. Also, they weren’t happy. Not the jolly sort you get on coaches. People going to the airport, they talk to you, they talk between themselves. Conversation is rife. You can learn lots about folk. I quickly realised something was wrong. He’s done this for a reason. They were meant to be here tonight.’
Ben listened intently. ‘Then we have to find a way to get them out of here.’
Andrew turned, looking towards the coach. ‘I’ve got an idea. Wait here.’ And he started to walk back to the coach. Ben waited, wondering what the driver was thinking.
Suddenly, Ben heard his car start up. He lifted his hands to his face to deflect the glare and saw the headlights fading into the distance as his car was reversed skilfully back down the lane.
Andrew was gone.
5
Stephen and Gareth
The barmaid tugged the rope for last orders. The bell was like a signal for boxers to get ready.
Stephen turned, looking across the table, wondering if he could steal in another swift one before they left. Gareth had sunk three large Jack Daniels. He had another on the table in front of him. Stephen hoped he’d maybe have a fifth. That way, he wouldn’t feel so bad. He shouted above the noise. ‘Gareth, another for the road?’
He looked at his half-filled glass. ‘No. Come on. It’s home time, Cinderella. I’ve got a lecture in the morning with the dreaded Dr Norris. If I don’t turn up, he’ll fail me. That’s for certain. It’s okay for you.’
Stephen peered down at his empty glass. ‘One more? I’ll slug it. I promise.’
Gareth lifted his phone. ‘I’m calling a taxi now. They’ll be here in ten.’
Stephen reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out his car keys. ‘I’ll drive.’
Gareth leant forward, whipping the air and missing by a significant margin. Stephen snatched them back and held them under the table.
‘Mate, Stephen, you’re not driving. You’ve had two, maybe three. Not a hope. Come on. Hand the keys over.’
Stephen stood. ‘I’m a student. A taxi will cost a fortune. I can’t afford it. I’ll drive. I’m fine.’
Gareth placed his phone back in his pocket, secretly pleased that he’d get a free lift home. ‘Mate, are you sure? It’s a half-hour drive.’
‘I’ll take the back roads.’
Stephen was fiddling with the radio, jabbing the automatic tuning device with his finger. White noise crackled through the speakers. As he leant forward, pushing his body to the edge of his seat, trees rushed past in his side vision, like a blurred mess scrambling his brain. He jabbed the brakes, realising he’d been speeding and lifted his head, watching the road in front.
He flicked on the full beams, wrestling with the steering wheel, holding it with his right elbow, his left hand searching for a station he recognised.
Gareth watched the road ahead, his fingers wrapped around the overhead rail. ‘Mate, leave the music. We’ll be home soon. How are you feeling?’
‘I’m good. I just wish my brother wouldn’t mess with the stations. I have everything tuned. It pisses me off. Hey, how fit is Nadia?’ Stephen asked.
‘Oh yes. What’s the deal with you two anyway? She’s in one of your classes, isn’t she?’
‘Yeah. Science. She sits behind me. She’s a nerd. Clever as fuck. She’s caught me looking at her on more than one occasion.’
‘Bloody hell. Who wouldn’t? She’s so hot, mate. I saw the two of you talking at the bar.’ Gareth pushed for more information. Secretly wanting her for himself.
Stephen lifted his finger from the radio. ‘This will have to do. The DJ is a bit of a prick, but the music’s all right. She said she’d join us, but she must have gone home.’
‘Really. That’s a shame,’ Gareth said a little too enthusiastically.
‘I do like her though. She’s–’
‘Watch out!’ Gareth hammered his fist on the dashboard.
Stephen pulled the steering wheel to the right, slamming his foot on the brakes. The car skidded and turned abruptly to the side, coming to a halt. He’d hit someone. ‘Where the fuck did she come from?’
‘I don’t know. Oh my God, you hit her. Did you see her, Stephen? I think she’s dead. Oh my fucking days.’
‘I was looking at you. I wasn’t speeding. Shit. Shit. Shit.’
Gareth opened the passenger door. The car had smoke coming from the back, pumping through the exhaust. He stood alone, temporarily taking in the silence – the calm before the storm. The driver’s door squealed and Stephen stepped out.
‘We need to go back; I think she’s lying on the road behind us. I can’t believe this, Stephen.’
‘She came from nowhere. She stepped out; I didn’t see her in time. I swear. All I remember is her white nightdress. She had long, scraggy, black hair. She was old. She was on me before I had a chance to brake. What the hell is she doing out here at this time? I couldn’t avoid her. She stepped out.’ Stephen was tackling his conscience.
‘What does it matter why she was out here? The fact is, she’s probably lying on the road. We need to walk back, attend to her. Call the police.’
Stephen hesitated. ‘No. No, mate. We can’t. They’ll throw the book at me. I’m in university. I have prospects. A career. A life ahead. I can’t. I can’t call the police. We can’t do that. Do you hear me, Gareth?’
‘So what? We just drive? Leave her here? Let her fucking die?’
Stephen waited, weighing up his options. The road was empty, and no one saw the incident. He felt he had too much to lose. He wanted to go back and help, to wait by her side, holding her hand until he heard sirens ringing through the trees. Stephen knew it was the right thing to do. He looked around him as he stood on the road, searching for the lights of an oncoming vehicle. They were alone. ‘Gareth, I’m out of here. It’s up to you. We’ve been mates since time. You do this, call the police, that’s it. It’s over. The plans, Thailand. Everything. Think about it.’
‘We can’t just go. We can’t,’ Gareth persisted.
‘Well, I’m getting into the driver’s seat. You stay, or come with me – your choice. But I’m out of here.’
The boys never spoke a word to each other for the rest of the journey home.
Stephen’s mind was filled with outcomes, consequences if he drove back. He’d been drinking, although he said to Gareth he hadn’t been speeding, they both knew it was lies. His head was now churning, hurling images on a loop. The old woman, wearing a white nightdress. That long, greasy hair. Her shocked expression as the car hit her. He thought hard. Had she been standing still? It happened so fast.
Maybe she ran out from the woods. She may have fallen into the side of the car. He thought about going back and checking the road once he’d dropped Gareth off. There’d be blood, skin, hair. But not his. As far as anyone knew, they weren’t there tonight. This was bad. It was the worst thing he had ever done – but running was even more of a crime. Running was more serious.