she thought the North Star should be, and straightaway she knew where she was. She was to the east of the village. Thanks, Dad.
By her reckoning, that must mean that there was a road somewhere to her right. The back road, her dad called it. If she could get to that road, she could find somebody. Somebody who would help her.
Abbie knew that she needed to get across the open fields somehow. But she would immediately be visible because of her white T-shirt. Quickly she whipped it over her head, and rubbed it on the grass - even a cow pat would be helpful. She didn’t care. She pulled the dank clothing back on, and realised with alarm that she must have made a noise. She heard a rush of footsteps coming towards her across the wet grass.
‘Abbie - I know where you are. I’m coming to get you. Stay there. I won’t hurt you. I promise.’
This time the voice was much closer, so Abbie took to her heels and ran as fast as she could across the open grassland. It didn’t matter if she could be seen now. She had to get away and the road was her best chance. She didn’t wait to listen for sounds of pursuit. She was out of options. And she couldn’t scream – no one would hear her.
Her legs were aching from the nettle stings and she was panting for breath when she saw a flash of headlights. The road must only be about two hundred metres ahead. She had been right. She forced herself to keep going, covering the distance in under a minute, but it felt like hours. Then Abbie sobbed in dismay. Between her and the road there was another solid hawthorn hedge, and no way through it.
But surely there must be a gate? There was always a gate. She scanned up and down the field, and was horrified to see that the only gate was back towards the house, and she was certain that way would lead to danger.
Abbie turned round slowly, petrified that she might see the terrifying figure of her pursuer racing across the field towards her, but although it was dark she didn’t think anybody was there. Perhaps she was safe. But she knew too much, and she would never be allowed to escape. Maybe it would be safer just to sit here until morning. Her parents were bound to be worried silly by now.
And then she remembered. She wasn’t supposed to be going home at all tonight. Her parents thought she was staying with Emily. They had been so pleased for her, so they wouldn’t be missing her at all. She had been stupid, and so very naive.
Tears of self-pity and fear were streaming down her face. The road was quiet; absolutely nothing had passed since the headlights about ten minutes ago. Abbie felt a sudden glimmer of hope as she looked back along the way that she had come. So intent had she been on checking whether she was being pursued that she had failed to notice there was a small opening in the hedge. If she could get into the next field, perhaps there would be access to the road.
Checking carefully that there was no movement behind her, she crept towards the gap, expecting any minute to see a figure loom up, out of the darkness. Her heart was thumping so loudly that she was sure it could be heard fifty metres away. Keeping her head below the top of the hedge, she inched forward. Then she was through and running again. With a choked cry of relief, she saw a gate at the far end of the field. Finally she would be able to reach the road.
Breathless and desperate, she climbed over the gate and started to walk up the road away from the village. It seemed safest, somehow. On the other side of the lane were the woods - a place she had visited with her father as a child, to see, but never to pick, the bluebells. It looked so different at night, and she glanced towards it nervously. The relief of hearing a car approaching from the village was enormous, and she turned round and jumped into the middle of the road, waving her arms for it to stop. Only at the very last minute did she recognise it. She had been in that very car only a few hours previously. Her tormentor had gone back for a car