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  FOLLOWED

  Cara Alexander

  Copyright © 2019 by Cara Alexander

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  More information at the end of the book.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  About the Author

  1

  London Paddington Station

  Early September

  The bus sways around Marble Arch, then turns left into Edgware Road, I glance at my phone, I’ll never make it, my train leaves in twelve minutes. I wanted to go to Helen’s house, now I probably won’t make it, what a shit day this has turned out to be. Suddenly the bus gathers speed; it turns into Praed Street, then a few minutes later, squeals to a halt outside Paddington Underground Station.

  Leaping off of the bus I sprint across the street, a cyclist curses me; I ignore him and run down the small side street into London Paddington train station.

  Which platform is it?

  I look around in desperation searching for the overhead information board. Someone nudges me. I turn and there’s a guy of about 18 grinning at me. ‘The board’s over there.’ He points straight ahead of me, then turns and runs to catch his train.

  I quickly scan the board - London to Oxford - leaving in two minutes. Running as fast as I can, I swipe my travel ticket over the automatic barrier, jump on the train and flop down on one of the pale blue seats. The whistle blows, the doors close and the train clanks and groans its way out of the station.

  With my face pressed against the window I gaze at the passing warehouses and rows of old terraced houses and close my eyes. What a terrible interview that was, what a waste of time. All they wanted was someone to dish the dirt, be a newspaper gossip columnist.

  ‘Mind if I sit here?’

  I open my eyes, there’s a scruffy looking guy peering into my face. He points to the seat beside me. I turn and look around. There’s an elderly man at the far end of the carriage reading his newspaper, otherwise the carriage is empty.

  I gesture to the rows of empty seats. ‘There are lots of seats over there.’

  He just ignores me and plonks himself down. ‘No, I’d rather sit here.’

  He stretches out his long thin legs and gives me a sly sideways look. I can feel my cheeks burning. His voice is weird, quite high pitched, he has watery blue eyes, a droopy looking brown moustache and limp, greasy brown hair.

  What a shit day, now this idiot to deal with. If I was on the Tube, I could understand it, people pressed together like sardines, the stench of body odour, stale breath, unwanted bodily contact, you’re lucky if you can find a seat, but this train is empty.

  He sits staring at me, he has a horrible sneer on his face, it’s as if he’s challenging me to say something. I feel like punching him in the face, but I don’t.

  Without looking at him, I get up and walk through the train, find another seat, with people nearby and sit down.

  An hour later the train pulls into Oxford, this is where I get off.

  I’m just about to leave the station when I think of Helen, she asked if I could check on her house for her. Her parents were killed in a car accident a year ago, she hasn’t been back to the house since. The thought of not seeing them here is too much for her, so of course I said I would go and see it for her.

  Instead of leaving the station and going back to Mum’s house, I change platforms and wait for the train to Evesly. It’s a lovely day, it only takes 20 minutes by train to get there, I’ll have enough time to check out the house, then collect Jamie from school.

  A few minutes later the train arrives, but unlike the train from London this one is quite busy so no more empty carriages for me today.

  The fields of corn and honey-coloured Cotswold stone houses we pass along the way bring back memories of when I used to live here, it seems a long time ago but nothing’s changed. I went to school here for a couple of years, it’s where I met Helen. After school we used to take the shortcut home through the fields at the back of the station. I wonder if it’s still there.

  I sigh and settle down, this won’t take long, a quick look at Helen’s house, check everything’s OK then go and collect Jamie.

  Twenty minutes later I’m outside Evesly station, nothing much has changed - everything still looks more of less the same as the last time I was here. It’s a typical sleepy Cotswold village where everyone knows each other. Mum and Dad worked at a college in Oxford for a couple of years then Dad’s mum became ill, he wanted to be close to her so we went back to Athens.

  Throwing my jacket over my shoulder, I walk around to the back of the station. The path’s still here, it’s a bit overgrown but on a day like this who wants to take the bus, it’s only a ten-minute walk.

  As I stroll along the overgrown pathway, I inhale the familiar scent of wildflowers and corn. It’s early September and the blackberry bushes are heavy with fruit. Mum used to make blackberry pies with these. I stop to eat some, they still taste good.

  After a few minutes walking I stop, I get the weirdest feeling I’m being followed, I turn to look but nobody’s there. I begin walking a bit faster, I don’t want to be late, it’s Jamie’s second day at his new school.

  Soon I can see the top of Helen’s house, not far to go, just a few minutes and I’ll be there.

  The sound of a twig snapping makes me freeze. I’m not imagining it, then to my horror I hear someone laugh. I swing round. ‘What’s so damn funny?’

  But before I can see who it is something’s thrown over my head, I try to pull it off but they’re holding it tight, so I give them a kick, then another.

  ‘Fucking bitch!’

  I’m thrown facedown to the ground. My arms are behind me in a vice-like grip. I try to fight him off but he’s strong. One of his hands is up my skirt. His hand is inside my pants. His grip on my arms is not so strong now, he’s too busy trying to pull my pants down.

  I quickly turn and kick him. He lets out a shriek of pain and doubles up, clutching his crotch.

  ‘Bastard,’ I scream, pulling the cloth off of my face. I kick him again, this time in the face. He falls back, blood streaming from his nose. Hauling himself up he makes a run for it, then he turns and shouts. ‘You wait, you bitch, I’ll get you for this.’

  I stand transfixed. I know who it is; it’s the guy from the train, the one who sat next to me. I watch as he crawls through a hedge then start running after him. Brambles bite into my flesh and tear at my clothes, but it’s no use, when I get to the other side he’s vanished.

  There’s not much I can do so I s
tart walking back to where it happened. On the way I get the feeling he’s watching me, but I can’t see him.

  My jacket and bag are still where I dropped them. I pick them up and walk back to the station. I feel so angry. I can’t believe what just happened. My blouse is torn, my skirt’s ripped, my tights are in shreds. As I enter the station a couple of people stop to stare at me.

  ‘Are you alright, Miss?’

  A man with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand walks over to me. ‘What happened?’ he asks, looking at my clothes.

  I would have thought it was obvious I think, then I see his startled expression - did I say that aloud?

  Quickly finishing off his sandwich he takes out his phone and points to a nearby bench. ‘I’m the station manager, sit down, I’ll call the police.’

  I go to sit down and stumble. He leaps forward and grabs my arm. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, of course I’m alright,’ I snap. He quickly takes his hand off my arm. ‘I’m sorry,’ I mutter. ‘But I must rush, I have to...’

  ‘Is everything alright?’

  I look up. A policewoman stands looking at me with a frown on her face. She looks at me then at the station manager. Before I can say anything, the station manager pulls her to one side. ‘She’s been attacked, shall I call an ambulance?’

  Brushing him aside she takes out her notebook and walks over to me, he follows. ‘I want to know what happened, but first I need your name and address.’

  I garble my name and address and tell her briefly what happened. Then there’s the sound of a train, it’s the next train to Oxford.

  ‘It’s my train,’ I gasp. ‘I have to go.’

  ‘Don’t forget to go to your local police station,’ she calls. ‘You’ll need to sign a statement.’

  I nod, run to the platform and jump on the train.

  Back at home I change then run to Jamie’s school. It’s just gone three thirty when I arrive, Jamie’s in the playground sitting alone on a bench. He looks up. ‘Mum!’ he calls, waving to me.

  I run over and hug him. ‘How was school?’

  His face drops. ‘I hate it. Can I go back to my old school?’

  ‘But I thought you liked it.’

  ‘I hate it Mum, I really hate it.’

  Grabbing his hand, I pull him along with me. ‘Don’t worry, this is only your second day, when you make some friends, you’ll love it.’ I spot a newsagent’s shop across the road. ‘Come on, let’s get an ice cream.’ We run across the road to the shop, school’s forgotten for the moment but for how long?

  2

  Back at Mum’s

  I'm curled up on the sofa thinking. Jamie's drinking orange juice and eating cake. I sit watching him. He hasn't noticed anything's wrong, why should he? I'll give Helen a call let her know what's happened.

  I stretch and walk over to Jamie. ‘Do you have any homework tonight?’

  He shrugs.

  ‘Why don't you like your new school Jamie, has anything happened?’ I tried talking to him about it on the way home from school, but he kept changing the subject.

  He sits scowling. ‘I don't want to talk about it.’

  ‘Okay, but if you're having a hard time...’

  He grunts, crams the rest of the cake into his mouth and looks at me. ‘Can I watch TV?’

  ‘Yes, I'll give Helen a call then I'll get dinner ready, okay?’

  He nods, toddles off to the kitchen for another slice of cake, comes back, switches on the TV and I leave.

  As I close the door the Star Wars theme starts playing. The top of the stairs is the best place to call from, I don’t want him to hear me talking to Helen.

  Her phone rings a couple of times then she answers.

  ‘Helen, it's me, I need to talk to you.’

  ‘Beth,’ she exclaims, sounding surprised. ‘You don't sound good, what's wrong?’

  ‘I was having a bad day, but then it got worse, much worse.’ I stop for a second.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Someone tried to rape me.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Yes, I was attacked, and he got away.’

  She gasps. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, I'm just so angry.’

  ‘Do you know who it was? Did you call the police?’

  ‘I spoke to a police officer at the station.’

  ‘But where did it happen?’

  ‘Oh, it’s a long story.’

  ‘Tell me Beth, I want to know.’

  ‘Okay, I was coming back from an interview in London, I was on the train minding my own business, the carriage was practically empty then a guy got on. He insisted on sitting next to me. Well of course I got pissed off, I moved to another seat, further down the train. I got off at Oxford then caught the train to Evesly.’

  ‘Why were you going to Evesly?’

  Oh shit, now she’ll blame herself for asking me to check on her house. I start pacing around the small landing. There are a few stairs leading to the top floor and in my frustration, I give the stair banister a kick, wishing it was him.

  ‘Take it easy Beth, calm down, come back here for a few days, you can stay with me, I told you before...’

  ‘How can I? Jamie just started school.’

  ‘I knew I shouldn’t have asked you to go,’ she mutters, as if to herself.

  ‘It’s not your fault, the little shit must have followed me when I changed trains at Oxford. What sort of a person does that?’

  Jamie comes out of the living room and looks up at me. ‘What’s for dinner Mum?’

  ‘Look Helen, I have to make dinner, I'll call you tomorrow.’

  ‘When’s your mum coming back from Spain?’

  ‘I’m not sure, I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  I run downstairs, there’s a bottle of Pinot Noir on the kitchen table, it’s a bit early but I need a drink. Filling a small glass to the top I gulp half of it down.

  ‘I'm hungry Mum,’ Jamie calls from the living room.

  I open the fridge and peer inside - there’s a tub of falafel and another of hummus. ‘One of your favourites,’ I call.

  The sun’s streaming through the kitchen window, it feels hot so I open the back door for some fresh air. A streak of something like marmalade runs past me. It’s Tabitha, Mum's ginger cat.

  ‘Hey Tab,’ I murmur, bending down to stroke her. She stares at me with her big green eyes, purring like an engine, waiting for me to fill her bowl with food, which I do.

  Soon the scent of cumin and mint fill the kitchen, the falafel sizzle in the pan, the salad's ready, and the pitta's in the toaster. I'm just about to take the falafel from the pan when there's an almighty crash from the living room.

  Tabitha jumps with fright, her ears go back and she runs out of the kitchen. I drop the pan, it smashes to the floor.

  I run into the hall. Smoke seeps from under the living room door, there's a weird crackling noise. I wrench open the door and the full force of the blaze hits me. Jamie's on the floor, the TV looks as if it's about to implode. I haul him out of the room as fast as I can, through the hallway, out of the front door and onto the grass.

  ‘What happened, Mum?’ he gasps, opening his eyes.

  Suddenly our next-door neighbour Martin appears brandishing a fire extinguisher. ‘Don't worry Beth, I called the ambulance, the police and the fire-fighters are on their way.’ He points to the fire extinguisher. ‘I'll try and put it out with this.’

  I nod with relief; he disappears inside the house. Jamie tries to sit up to see what's happening then falls back.

  ‘Don't sit up, try to relax,’ I murmur, holding onto him.

  A couple of minutes later a car screeches to a halt outside our house. Out jumps a police officer, he spots me and Jamie and runs over.

  Pulling out his phone he talks to someone then squats down beside us. ‘The ambulance and fire-fighters are on their way; they won't be long.’ He looks at Jamie, then turns to me. ‘I know it’s difficult but it would be really helpful if
you could tell me what happened.’

  ‘I was in the kitchen making dinner, there was an explosion.’

  He nods.

  ‘It happened so quickly; I ran out into the hall, smoke was seeping from under the door…’

  I stop and look around for the ambulance.

  ‘Don't worry, it'll be here soon,’ he says, standing up and looking at the house.

  ‘But it's taking too long.’ I pick Jamie up and run to my car. ‘I'm taking him to the hospital.’

  The sound of an ambulance siren stops me in my tracks.

  ‘Over here,’ shouts the officer, pointing to me and Jamie.

  The paramedic nods, runs over and examines Jamie. ‘It looks like smoke inhalation.’ Then he looks at me. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I'm okay, it’s him I’m worried about.’

  ‘Don't worry I'll get you both checked out.’ He glances over at the house, then back at me. ‘They'll probably keep him in for the night.’

  I follow him as he carries Jamie into the ambulance.

  ‘I don't think you'll be coming back here for a while,’ the police officer mutters, following me to the ambulance. ‘You'll need to stay with friends for a few days.’

  ‘But we can't, I don't know anyone.’

  Suddenly our neighbour Martin comes over, a look of concern on his smoke blackened face. ‘You'll need these.’ He hands me my bag and phone. ‘You’re lucky, they were on the kitchen table.’

  I nod. ‘Thanks Martin, I really appreciate it.’

  He looks at Jamie, then back at me. ‘I'll keep an eye on the house for you.’