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and went about everything the wrong way, trusting the
wrong people.
    Now she would
pay, and pay with her life if they caught her.
    Get the story,
sell it to the papers, that had been the plan. She would make a
good life as a journalist, show them at home a thing or two, a
dream come true. Move to London, a bigger paper, a grand life. That
would definitely show them.
    Huh, some
dream. I couldn’t even get a job washing friggin' teacups on the
local rag, not enough qualifications.
    Wow! Like
what qualifications do you need to wash a bloody tea cup?
    Nothing in the
last year has run true.
    She was running
now, though. Running for her very life.
    A car turned
into the top of the street. 'Oh Jesus, sweet Jesus.' She was so
frightened that she lost control of her bladder. Terrified and
ashamed, she stood there shaking with terror, a cornered creature,
knowing there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
    Then she
gasped, a tiny flame of hope lit in her heart. It was a taxi.
    'Thank you,
God.'
    A chance, a
lifeline had been thrown her way.
    'Help,' she
yelled, moving quickly into the middle of the road. 'Stop… Stop.'
She frantically waved her arms up and down, refusing to move out of
the road.
    The taxi slowed
to a halt. Very near fainting with relief, she jumped in, gave her
address to the driver, an oldish grey-haired man who looked like a
kindly uncle, begged him to be as quick as he could, then collapsed
back in the seat.
    She closed her
eyes and tried to control her breathing. She would be all right
now, she would get away from here, as far away as possible.
    Everything
will be fine.
    I will never
even think about the brothers.
    Never
again!
    They will be
dead to my mind.
    And what I
know will die with me.
    I am going to
be fine.
    She opened her
eyes a few minutes later and gasped, 'Oh my God.' They were heading
in the wrong direction.
    'Is he fucking
stupid or what?’ she muttered.
    'No, no… It’s
the wrong way,' she said loudly when she realised they were heading
for Sallyport, the last place she wanted to be. 'Turn round, turn
round.' Her voice rose with every word.
    But the driver
either couldn’t hear her or was deliberately ignoring her.
    The last was
unthinkable.
    She pounded on
the glass partition with her fist, shouting now, straining her
throat, that he had to turn, go back, go the other way.
    ' Turn
around ,' she yelled.
    The driver
increased his speed. She was flung into the corner, her face
pressed up against the side window. The panic she’d felt before was
coming back with a vengeance. Spotting four youths in regulation
hoodie’s walking up the street, she banged as hard as she could on
the window, screaming, 'Help… Help me. Please help me.'
    Of the four,
two laughed and pointed at her, a third was so far gone he was on
the moon, and the other grinned evilly at her. 'Enjoy,' he mouthed
as the taxi sped past them.
    At the port the
taxi finally stopped. She squashed herself into the corner, eyes
wide and staring, her whole body trembling as the door opened and
an arm reached in.

CHAPTER TEN
    Evan Miller
looked at his watch. 1.30 am. He glared at his friend across the
round metal bar table, which was really silver plastic in disguise.
The music was loud enough to deafen even the strongest pair of
ears, so loud that he could feel the bass vibrating through his
body. What was even more annoying were the stupid repetitive
lyrics. He hated coming here. What was the point of a night out
when you couldn’t even talk to your mates without shouting? And the
place stank of stale beer. The smoking ban had caused that, just
shows how much the smoke used to mask the smell.
    But something
was wrong with Danny. He’d been mates with him long enough to know
when something was bugging him, which really could be anything from
a glass of spilt milk to England’s shores being invaded by every
country on the planet.
    The very first
day at infant school was when he’d met Danny. A lot of the other
kids had shied away from