House of Malice

SEVENTEEN

Unable to sleep for the terrors in her head, Mandy went on driving through the night. If she had an aim, it was just to get away, to put as many miles between herself and Summer Cottage as she could. She wanted never to return.

The mist had become a thick fog, forcing her to slow down to a crawl in places and lean forward in the driver’s seat, squinting in concentration through the windscreen. Several times she almost drove right into the verge or hit a tree. She’d completely lost her bearings, unsure even what road she was on. How long had she been driving, she wondered in bewilderment. Surely she’d have to come to a village or town sooner or later? Somewhere she could stop and rest, buy a cup of coffee, maybe even find a room. She yearned so badly for a safe haven that she could have wept.

‘It won’t be long, now, Buster, I promise.’ He’d hardly stopped whining in agitation the whole time they’d been driving, which only served to increase her own rising tension.

As the Kia advanced slowly down yet another narrow country lane, Mandy thought she could see houses up ahead. Thank God!

No, it was just one house, she thought, peering through the thick mist. Her eyes were getting strained and hard to focus. Taking a hand off the steering wheel she rubbed one eye, then the other, and looked again.

She stamped on the brake and the car slithered to a halt on the wet road.

‘Oh, no, no! It can’t be!’

But it was. She was back at Summer Cottage.

Mandy revved the engine hard and threw the car around to go speeding off blindly through the fog in the direction she’d come. ‘Buster, quiet!’ she yelled. He seemed to have gone out of his mind with fear, barking and growling at nothing. As if visibility weren’t already bad enough, he was getting the windows all steamed up with his frantic panting. Mandy rubbed a hole in the condensation on her windscreen and sped onwards, just managing to keep the swerving car on the road.

She came to a turning. Which way: left or right? Did it matter, as long as she was getting further from that place? She turned left, accelerating quickly off. The road snaked onwards for two, three miles, then another junction appeared ahead and this time she took the right turning. On, and on; and in all this time she still hadn’t seen another vehicle, or come to a major road, let alone a town. ‘This can’t be possible!’ she yelled, slapping the wheel.

As if in reply, the fog ahead seemed to roll in even more thickly, so that the glare of the Kia’s headlamps just reflected back at her, dazzling her and forcing her to slow down even more.

Then out of the mist, the familiar shape loomed up yet again.

No matter which way she turned, no matter how far she went, she couldn’t escape from it.

Summer Cottage.

In her shock, Mandy slammed her foot down on the wrong pedal and the car accelerated with a jolt, engine speeding. Before she could get the vehicle under control, a green wall of foliage came racing towards her windscreen. The car’s suspension juddered as the wheels hit the verge; then the Kia ploughed into the bushes. Mandy felt herself thrown forward against the pressure of the seatbelt. There was a loud crunch and the windscreen suddenly burst inwards.

Then, nothing. Just the tick of hot metal and the spinning of a rear wheel where the back of the crashed car was raised off the ploughed-up verge. Mandy struggled upright and saw the black, wetly glistening tree branch that had punched through the windscreen and between the front seats, showering the inside of the car with glass fragments. Eight inches further to the right, and it would have impaled her where she sat.

Her second thought was for the dog, who’d been thrown forward under the impact and was lying dazed on the floor of the car. ‘Buster! Are you okay?’

Even before she’d said it, Buster was back on his feet and going wild again with frenzied barking. And before Mandy could grab his collar, he’d bounded between the front seats, his paws raking broken glass, then bounced up onto the buckled dashboard and threw himself out through the jagged hole in the windscreen. He went sliding down the crumpled bonnet and disappeared. Mandy heard his frantic barking as he ran off.

‘Buster! Come back!’

She twisted herself around in the driver’s seat and kicked against her door, which opened with a scrape of twigs and branches. As she clambered out into the mist she saw Buster’s distinct white shape pelting across the road.

Heading like a thing possessed towards Summer Cottage. Growling and snarling, the dog scrambled under the gate and ran up the path towards the front door. Running after him, shouting ‘Buster! Stop!’, Mandy saw the front door suddenly glide open. Buster disappeared into the shadows of the entrance.

‘No! Come back!’ she yelled, bursting through the gate. Now she couldn’t see him at all. She sprinted up the path and in through the open doorway.

Inside Summer Cottage.