- RACHEL

I WALKED AWAY AND was so angry it took me several minutes to wonder whether I’d overreacted. I stopped when I reached his car. Another car had parked up next to it but I couldn’t see who it belonged to. For now at least, I was alone.

I leaned back against the hot metal, the sun burning through the last of the mist that had lingered around my feet during the walk to the hut. Had I let my emotions get the better of me?

I had created a perfect world in my head but reality was different to dreams. I had built him up to be the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with but I hadn’t actually told him that. I’d interpreted a lot of the things he’d done as proving it but he’d never said to me anything definitive. That pause when I talked about staying with him told me a lot. It told me he had planned a fling, a vacation romance that would end when I caught my flight back home. I wasn’t catching a flight anymore.

He’d lied to me though. Even if I forgot about the rest there was no getting away from the fact he’d lied to me about who he was. He was the man in the mask, the man with two women on his arms, waltzing into the parsonage like he owned the place. He’d acted like he owned me too, trying to get me upstairs when we’d barely met. Throwing me out when I refused. Then pretending to be my tour guide. How could I ever trust someone like that?

I was so deep in thought I didn’t realise someone was approaching from the track until they were right in front of me. I blinked in shock, not sure if I was imagining it. “Ian? Is that you?”

“I came to take you home,” he said, unlocking the car next to the Bentley. “Time to go.”

“You followed me? I told you…” My voice faded away. Was there any point staying if Greg didn’t want me? “Fine, let’s go.”

I don’t know why I said it. I have thought about that moment over and over again since that day. I still can’t work it out. All I know is that I was confused and in that moment it was easier to let someone else decide for me what I should do. Without Greg there, Ian took his place.

It wasn’t something I was proud of, nor was it something I understood. I didn’t really want to go with him but what was the alternative? That I stay with a man who lied to me about who he was? A man who didn’t want me to stay? Who’d had his fun and would toss me aside for the next virgin he saw at a party.

I climbed into the passenger seat of Ian’s car and in a daze stared out of the window as he set off down the road. We’d gone some miles before I realised he was talking to me. “Huh?” I said, blinking as if coming out of a dream. There was a deep sinking feeling inside me, as if I’d fallen off a cliff edge and was waiting for the impact of landing. I felt as if I was falling and falling fast.

“I said I followed you from Jamaica Inn.”

“Oh.”

“I hired the car. Wanted to make sure you weren’t being taken in by him. He was clearly a conman, I could tell that just by looking at him. I bet he was after your money, wasn’t he? Did you lend him anything?”

“No, nothing.”

“But he told you what to wear, didn’t he? Do you really think that’s an appropriate outfit for a woman of your age? Aren't you ashamed of it?”

“Huh?” I looked down at my clothes. “What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s far too revealing and it looks cheap. Look at yourself.”

“I like what I’m wearing.”

“You won’t wear things like that when we’re married. I'll choose what you wear. That way I can be sure you won't look like a whore.”

“Stop the car.” I spoke calmly but my heart was racing. The word whore had been like a slap across my face. What was I doing? Just because things had gone wrong with Greg didn’t mean Ian was Superman. He was still the oily slimeball he’d been when I set off on my vacation. “I said stop the car.”

“No. We’re going to the airport and we’re getting on a plane together. You’re going to stop this childish behaviour and start doing what you’re told. You’re clearly incapable of looking after yourself and you need someone to tell you what to do. You let him tell you what to do, it’s a small step to doing what your future husband tells you. Now let’s talk about something more pleasant. Where do you think we should honeymoon?”

“Are you insane? I’m not marrying you.”

“Aren’t you? You got in the car with me. I know what you really need, Rachel. You think you want him but you’re just one more notch on the bedpost of a peasant. Is that what you want?”

“I’d rather be that than your wife.”

“Now that’s enough,” he snapped, his voice louder. “Your parents want this and I know the trouble you’re in. I know you’re broke. I’ve made a deal with them. I’ll help you out of your financial problems and in return you’ll give me all the things a wife should give her husband, starting with doing what you're told.”

“Stop the car.”

“No.”

I didn’t ask again. I lapsed into silence and let him think he’d won. How could I have been so stupid as to get in the car in the first place? It had been a short time since I’d walked away from the hut but already I knew I’d made a mistake. Even if Greg didn’t want me, it was better to stay penniless here in England than go back and be forced into a miserable life with a man I didn’t love. Worst of all were my parents, using me like some kind of bargaining chip.

Once I was certain Ian was concentrating on driving, I slid my hand slowly into my jacket pocket, digging out my cell. I kept it by my side, using my school day skills to start typing a message without him realising what was happening.

Ian’s got me in his car and won’t let me out. We’re heading to the airport. Please come and get me.

I slid the cell back into my pocket and then took a deep breath, doing my best to keep my hands from shaking as Ian picked up speed, the narrow road starting to widen as we drove further inland.

I could only hope he got the message and had forgiven me for our argument. The reason for our disagreement seemed completely meaningless now I was being driven against my will back to the airport.

It was another five minutes before I saw a car behind us. I wasn’t sure at first but it was accelerating quickly and then I knew it was him. “Stop the car,” I said again. “Let me out.”

“No chance,” Ian said. “You’ll soon learn that I’m in charge around here. You think I’m weak, I’m not. I’m strong, stronger than him. I could pay him off and I bet he’d take the money and not look back. He looked like he needed it.” He glanced in his mirror and noticed the sleek black Bentley getting closer. He didn’t say anything, just narrowing his eyes and revving the engine, sending us lurching forward.

“Let me out,” I snapped, glancing back at the following car which was inches from the trunk. “Now.”

The road swerved left and the Bentley tried to pull alongside. A narrowing by a field sent it behind again but as it went, it touched the bumper, making Ian’s hands twist on the steering wheel as he fought to keep control. “What’s he doing?” Ian asked. “He’ll get us killed.”

“He’s saving me,” I replied with a smile that faded as the car was touched again, screeching to the right and beginning to fishtail.

As the Bentley drove close again, Ian twisted the wheel, nudging the corner of it. Greg swerved away to the left but I caught a glimpse of his hands fighting to keep control and then he was back on us, racing forward to catch up.

Ian slammed on the brakes. This close the Bentley had no time to react, crunching into the back of us. Both cars spun out of control. I caught a glimpse of the Bentley slamming into a stone wall before Ian’s car flipped over, the world turning upside down. Then I felt rather than heard an enormous crash and then there was nothing but blackness.

I came to a few seconds later to find myself upside down, still strapped into the seat. Ian was moaning to himself next to me, his hands moving weakly. I fumbled for my seat belt, managing to get it undone so I thudded into the roof of the car.

I had to kick the door to get it open as it had bent out of shape. Crawling through the gap, I stood up, staggering slightly as I blinked in the light. There was the Bentley, steam rising from under the hood. I ran over to it. Greg was in the driver’s seat, his eyes closed, a rivulet of blood running down from his forehead. He didn’t look as if he was breathing.

My cell. Where was it? It wasn’t in my pocket. “Help,” Ian said weakly as I reached into his car and groped for my cell. “I’m stuck.”

“In a minute,” I said, dialling the emergency services. “Ambulance please. There’s been a car crash.”

I ran back over to Greg while still talking on the phone. Feel for a pulse the woman on the other end of the line had told me. I did that and felt a wave of relief to find one on his wrist though he felt far too cold. The pulse was fading as I counted the seconds. “Stay with me,” I said to Greg, stroking his face. “Please stay with me.”

His skin was white and he wasn’t moving. The voice on the other end of the phone was still talking but I was too frightened to listen. I couldn’t imagine life without Greg. Whatever we’d argued about didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that he didn’t die. From the distance I could hear sirens growing louder, getting closer. I could only pray they weren’t too late.