After the Accident: A compelling and addictive psychological suspense novel by Kerry Wilkinson

Author:Kerry Wilkinson [Wilkinson, Kerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781838885151
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2020-03-30T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

MAYBE A CALIPPO

Emma: I can’t believe I’m admitting this – but I opened the bonnet and looked at the engine. I have no qualifications, no training, and I had no clue what I was looking for. I sort of stared at the engine as if that would do any good.

I couldn’t see anything, because of course I couldn’t – so I walked around the car and had a second look, then I tried turning the key again. Nothing happened, obviously. There was no steam, no fire, nothing obvious… it just didn’t work.

The sun was high by this point and it would have been at least thirty degrees. I’d not brought any water. I’d been doing between thirty and forty miles per hour for half an hour, so I was anywhere from fifteen to twenty miles from the village. I was trying to remember the map from the hotel lobby. I’d followed the road up the coast, towards the north, and I had a feeling it was around thirty miles to Agios Georgios. At best, I had ten miles to walk – and that was to a place where there was seemingly nothing. At worst, it was twenty miles the other way to get back to the hotel. Either way, it definitely wasn’t a distance that was walkable in that heat.

I sat back in the car, but nothing was working, including the air conditioning, so I left the doors open and then walked across to the cliffs. I kept away from the edge – but I didn’t need to be close to see the tide smashing into the rocks below. It was impossible not to think of Dad. How, if the tide had been in, it wouldn’t have been a beach where Dad landed. That he wouldn’t be in hospital at that moment, that it would have been much worse.

Alan didn’t have that luxury. He hit rocks and I guess nobody could survive that.

I was thinking of that when I heard the engine. When I turned, there was a car shooting along the road from the direction of the village. There was a spray of dust and the driver was definitely going a lot faster than I had been.

I dashed back to the road, waving my arms and shouting like a madwoman. It sounds stupid now. It was a single-lane road and there’s no way the driver could miss me – the rental car was blocking half the road and he’d have had to swerve onto the verge to go around. That didn’t mean the driver would stop – but it did mean there was no need to jump around as if I was trying to flag down an airliner.

As the car got closer, the small, chipped stones were spraying off to the side as it bumped up and down across the potholes. I didn’t think the driver was going to stop. It certainly didn’t seem like they were slowing… and then, as I was about to shield my eyes to escape the dust, the driver slammed on the brakes and bumped to a stop.

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