File 001
She waited until he had disappeared around the bend before stepping out from beneath the trees.
There was no hurry.
That was the mistake people always made. They hurried. They ran. They looked over their shoulders. And, sooner or later, they stopped thinking.
She looked down the hill towards the junction. Nothing moved. Even the usual sounds of the valley seemed to have been swallowed by the mist.
She checked her watch.
Eight minutes.
Plenty of time.
Then she began to walk uphill.
He was beginning to regret his decision.
The road was steeper than it had looked from below. Within a hundred yards he had stopped running altogether and was reduced to an awkward, hurried walk. His lungs were burning and sweat was running down the back of his neck despite the cold.
He glanced behind him.
Nothing.
That should have reassured him.
It didn’t.
The mist had thickened and the road simply vanished behind him. Someone could be twenty yards away and he wouldn’t know.
He pushed on.
A gate appeared through the mist on his left. Beyond it, a bridleway disappeared between the hedges. Beside the gate stood a sign.
Hogstow.
He stopped for barely a second.
No. Not that way.
He knew where it led and there would be nowhere to hide.
He carried on.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
He froze.
For several seconds he simply stood there, staring at his coat as though something alive had crawled inside it.
Then it vibrated again.
He pulled it out.
The screen showed a message.
WHERE ARE YOU?
No name. Just the number.
He stared at it.
Another message appeared.
DON’T GO UP THE HILL.
For the first time since leaving the churchyard, he laughed.
It wasn’t amusement. It was the ridiculousness of it. He had spent the last ten minutes desperately trying to decide where to go and now, apparently, somebody who wasn’t even there was giving him directions.
The phone vibrated again.
SHE CAN SEE YOU.
His laughter stopped.
Slowly, he turned.
The road behind him was empty.
Mist drifted silently between the hedges.
He looked uphill.
Nothing there either.
Then he heard footsteps.
Not behind him.
Ahead.
He stepped backwards towards the hedge.
The footsteps stopped.
He waited.
Nothing.
He could hear his own breathing again. Somewhere in the trees a bird gave a sudden harsh cry and he almost jumped.
Then came another sound.
A dog barked.
A voice followed it.
“Come on, you daft thing.”
A shape appeared through the mist.
An elderly man emerged around the bend, wearing a battered wax jacket and carrying a walking stick. A small black-and-white dog trotted several yards ahead of him, nose down, entirely absorbed in whatever fascinating information had been left beside the verge.
The man looked up.
“Morning.”
He managed something resembling a reply.
The dog had stopped.
It was staring at him.
“Don’t mind her,” said the man. “She thinks everybody’s carrying biscuits.”
The dog clearly considered this explanation inadequate and continued staring.
“Bit lost, are you?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
The old man raised an eyebrow.
“No,” he repeated. “I know where I am.”
“That’s more than most people do up here in this weather.”
The man smiled and continued downhill. The dog remained where it was.
“Come on, Meg.”
Meg didn’t move.
She wasn’t looking at him now.
She was looking past him.
Up the hill.
Her ears rose.
A low growl came from somewhere deep in her throat.
The old man stopped.
“What is it?”
Meg growled again.
The mist moved across the road.
And for just a moment he thought he could see someone standing in it.
A woman.
Then the mist shifted again and there was nothing there.
The old man had seen it too.
He knew that because the smile had disappeared from his face.
“Perhaps,” the old man said quietly, “you’d better come with me.”
“Why?”
But the man was no longer looking at him.
He was looking uphill.
“Because I think you’ve taken the wrong path.”
The phone vibrated in his hand.
Both men looked down at it.
Another message.
DON’T TRUST THE MAN WITH THE DOG.
He looked up.
The old man was watching him.
And slowly, from somewhere farther down the hill, came the sound of a car changing gear.
