Footsteps In The Night
Carrie wasn’t sure where she was – or who was behind her
Carrie stepped down from the rumbling bus and watched it speed away. She looked round for a landmark in the bleak new territory.
The main road was wet, its shiny black surface peppered by icy drops of rain that hit it and bounced up again.
Dwindling twilight was now punctuated by the flicker of street lamps, each with its halo of misty light.
Houses, anonymous, stood silently beyond small front gardens, fenced and gated, shielded by their hedges of dark privet.
Straining to read the numbers on the gateposts, she started off in what she hoped was the right direction but realised very quickly that she had left the bus too soon.
Her damp clothes clung to her, her hair dripped down her neck – an inauspicious start to her new life.
She moved on past an alleyway, resolutely not looking into its darkening mouth. A cat shot out, making her jump.
She began to count her steps to give herself a sense of progress in this void – a void in which she felt she had no place.
Keep going, just keep going, ten steps at a time – you’ll get there.
Like a mantra, she chanted it silently to herself, over and over again.
Another bus passed and she became aware of footsteps behind her, just slightly out of time with hers, a little heavier.
She hesitated, walked on a short distance then came almost to a halt. The footfalls seemed to slow down too but still they followed her, relentlessly.
Keep cool, keep moving – think of the house, supper and a warm fire waiting.
With rising fear, Carrie forced herself to stride along the gleaming pavement, mindless of uneven, slimy slabs and waiting puddles.
Impulsively she stopped and darted through the nearest open gate and down a pathway to an unlit house.
I’ll make him think I live here – I’ll wait until he’s gone.
To make it more convincing, she took out her keys and fumbled with them, pretending to push them into the lock – but the footsteps still came nearer, never faltering.
They stopped behind her.
Angry and afraid, she swung round, to find herself confronted by a tall, broad figure, his face in darkness, though his hair was back-lit by a yellow street lamp.
“Excuse me,” said a deep, irritated voice. “I live here.”
An unseen arm reached round her. He opened the door and went inside; it shut behind him with a sharp, dismissive click.
Bursting with embarrassment, Carrie turned and ran, ran back down the path to the gateway and the pavement.
She ran until her breathing hurt and she was gasping.
She found her temporary lodgings a little further down the street, a lantern in the porch gleaming like a beacon, beckoning her to safety.
Her experience of the previous evening determinedly put aside, Carrie retraced her route to work. At the door of the imposing building she took off her glove, still damp, to press the code into the keypad.
She hesitated.
CY? CZ? And two-six-seven? Or was it seven twenty-six?
She made herself keep calm and try all combinations, to no avail.
Breathing deeply, she raised her hand to knock when from behind her came a vaguely familiar voice – not harsh this time, but tinged with mild amusement.
“Excuse me – I work here.”
She turned. He smiled and offered her his hand.
“Geoff Beatty. And you are…?”
“Carrie Wilson. I’m new here.”
He opened the door and stood aside.
“You scared me last night,” she said. “I thought you were following me.”
“Sorry!” Geoff said cheerfully. “I just wanted to get home, out of that miserable weather. Have a good day!”
He strode off to his desk.
He scarcely spoke to her again, but Carrie was aware of his eyes on her whenever she took calls or moved around the unfamiliar office.
As the working day at last drew to a close, she saw him coming over.
“Let me see you home,” he said. “You could do with someone to show you around – it’s difficult when you’re new.”
He held her coat out for her and the twinkle in his eye told Carrie she would never be lost nor lonely again.
We’re sharing another crime-themed story from our archives every Monday and Thursday during April. Watch out for the next one!
