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He was only stopped by a great sweeping veil of rain that soaked hione fifty yards It was forty e The sea hipped up to a frenzy, the sky pewter He changed, had a shower and lit the fire Rain and wind hurled themselves at the stone walls and made a drumbeat on the roof He stretched out on the sofa in front of the blaze and picked up an old John le Carré novel which someone had left behind He had first read Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy twenty years ago, hat had seeh to reach its denouehted him was the prose, the sense of place, the richness of a text which he had not appreciated before

He was still on the sofa, book on the floor and the fire burnt down to a s in and woke him just after six She bore a wide se steaks An hour later, Serrailler wondered why he had thought he ht on in the caravan but Jonty Lewis kicked at the door anyway He knew she’d be in there It was too early for her to be working and she didn’t have o But it was several seconds before she answered and by then he’d kicked harder

‘For Christ’s sake, do you have to do that?’ Marie stood back to let hiy space She’d tried to make it like a ho plant on the cruddy work surface, and there were some cushions on the bench that did for a seat But it was still a manky caravan

He pulled open cupboard doors above his head and slaot any bottles – you want to bring your own’

He switched on the television which sat above the worktop The picture was fuzzy but he sat down and started watching anyway

‘I could do with a brew’

‘Brew it then’

But when he caught Marie’s eye, she put the kettle on the hob, not wanting to start anything, which with Jonty was never difficult

She had the beginning of a cold, her mother was still on the run which meant she had the van to herself, and she had planned to lie down under her blankets and watch both episodes of Corrie and EastEnders She had a boil-in-the-bag curry and a block of Galaxy She was sorted

Only noas here, sprawling his legs out, tripping her up, filling the sh of hi of tea and found a half-packet of Custard Crea at the screen The voices and the laughter co out of it were fuzzy like the picture

‘I’, steady expressionless look, dunking his biscuit as he did so

‘I was out last night and ht to ht’

‘When’d a sore throat stop anyone?’

She hesitated, wondering if she would bother ainst it She just stood, staring out of the plasticinto the darkness

‘I need to pay someone,’ Jonty said

His dealer There was never anyone else he had to pay

She said nothing

‘Or else I won’t get any gear’

She wondered if anything was beyond thein the dark field Rabbits or a fox or so, but she was never bothered here on her own at night, though she put the bar on the caravan door She was et yourself done up I’ll o The best she could hope to do was keep some money back for herself, but most of it she’d have to hand over When Jonty was around he called the shots, he was the one she worked for She re about what Abi had said – that she was getting out, saving up, looking to the future, this was the last year She wouldn’t make it of course, none of thele and sink under, watch her kids go into care and her hopes blotted out All the sauts even to think of it,to co Because the difference between theetting fro that Jonty Leould be found dead in a ditch with his head kicked in

He had turned up the television The hissing, crackling laughter blasted out of the set and filled the fetid space inside the van, along with the sound of hi tea He had finished the biscuits

She went to the cardboard box where she kept her clothes She couldn’t wait to get out after all

It was a busy night By half past eleven she had been picked up by four punters, the last of whoh he hadn’t seeave her £90 She stood on the corner at the top of Old Ribbon Street It was mild There was a moon Traffic was quiet But it didn’tstopping her was that Jonty would be there, feet up, guzzling everything there was to guzzle, filling the van with s If she had a place she could stash the extra money she’d do that, but there was nowhere that soirls had been out working but she wouldn’t trust theone now The road was e down onto the canal towpath and over the bridge, which was the short cut, but sticking to theto worry about on the towpath was if it was muddy and you slipped, or if youway, round by the Hill A car slowed beside her but she kept her head down and the collar of her anorak up and walked faster The car drove off She’d had enough tonight But then, she’d always had enough Which one of thereat ideas?

It was as she crossed over to the road that ran alongside the Hill that Marie heard soht she saw so, a shadow or a ht and an enat

She walked on fast But then it was a definite sound, footsteps, solanced over her shoulder again and saw a figure, she reht and murdered on the Hill, a serial killer had er for months until he was tracked down, and then he had co himself It had all happened before she cah and now the thought of it made her blood freeze She didn’t knohy She told herself it was not only ages ago but the man was dead – not even in jail and alive somewhere, stone-cold dead He couldn’t hurt her or anyone else

But the person following her could He had not overtaken her, he was not so quickly for ho behind, and nobody else was in sight or earshot To her left reared up the dark outline of the Hill; to her right, the railings of the park Houses were on the far side of that – she could not even see any lights, people had gone to bed by now

She prayed for sonat whine of the scooter, a late-night van, even a police patrol, even just one person walking a dog last thing

But there was no one, except whoever was now a couple of yards behind her and closing in She could hear breathing, a soft pant, in and out, in and out Quiet footsteps Marie broke into a run The footsteps behind her quickened too

But then a car ca her up in a wide and welcohtness

In the caravan, Jonty Lewis found a single can of cider, drank it standing up, then s up, he eating and his stoed froain He thu left in the milk carton, no coffee in the jar

He lay down on the bench but he didn’t sleep, there was tooin all the nerves of his body He ached and sweated and sweated and ached his way through what felt like a lifetih theabove the sink

Marie should be here and she wasn’t When she did turn up, he was going to kill her He lay, seething, waiting, being leered at by the moon with mould and pockmarks all over its face

Twelve

‘Just to recap, then, before we close The next ain because the building work on the Deanery still won’t be finished’

‘If you’d rather not host two book club s in a row, I’m happy to do it next ti November anyway, so it’ll be you to host it then Our book for October is Learning to Dance by Michael Mayne and I have two copies so if anyone would like this spare … ? Cat?’ Ilona held out the paperback

‘So – that’s it’

‘And I propose the thanks to you, Ilona, from all of us’

‘Seconded,’ Cat said ‘The best coffee and cake in the Cathedral Close’

‘And the best sofas’