The Girl on the Platform by Bryony Pearce

Author:Bryony Pearce [Pearce, Bryony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-02-22T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

I clutch a crying Grace and stare through the window, unable to tear my eyes from Tom and Neil, even to comfort my daughter. Then the figure reaches the van and yanks the door open.

Tom has overtaken Neil and my heart pounds as if I’m running with him. I can picture exactly what the crowbar will look like embedded in his temple.

Before Tom can get closer, the van’s door slams, and it peels away.

Neil and Tom run pointlessly after it for a few seconds, slowing to jogging speed, as it turns the corner. Then they turn back.

Neil is hobbling. Tom half carries him in. He leaves a trail of bloody footprints in the hall.

‘Oh my God, Neil, your feet!’ I rush down the remaining stairs. ‘What do I do? Where’s your medical stuff?’

Sam appears at the top of the stairs. ‘What’s going on?’

Neil spreads his hands. ‘Some fucker just vandalised Fidget’s car.’

‘Oh no!’ Sam is mortified. ‘It’s not like that around here, Bridget, honestly! We’ve never had this happen before. Never!’

I know she hasn’t. I know the person who did this isn’t local. This wasn’t a random attack or some thug hoping to find an iPhone left on a car seat. But what do I say? Sorry, Sam, Neil, I led these kidnappers to your home.

And what if I tell them that I’ve been followed by the van? Tom might not believe me; Neil would go mental; Sam would insist I tell the police. I cling tighter to Grace. The whole idea exhausts me. Briefly, I consider speaking to Naomi Shaw, but there’s no evidence that this was anything other than a motiveless piece of vandalism.

And what if I have to tell her my movements and Tom finds out where I’ve been?

I know it makes sense to tell Neil and Sam; I feel like a fool for deciding otherwise, but the words are stuck in my teeth like toffee. I can only nod as Sam insists that Clitheroe has a low crime rate, that these things don’t happen, even as she uses tweezers to remove a shard of glass from the ball of Neil’s bleeding foot.

‘We’ll have to speak to the police,’ Tom says, taking Grace.

‘What?’ I stare at him, wild-eyed.

‘Don’t look so freaked, Bridge. We’ll need a crime number for the insurance.’ Tom groans. ‘I’ll take some photos, then we’ll tape a bin bag over the window for tonight in case it rains. I’ll call into the station in the morning. I passed it when I went to see the recruitment agent. I’m just annoyed we didn’t get the number plate – you didn’t, did you Neil?’

Neil shakes his head. ‘Sorry, mate.’

‘It’s fine. The van was probably nicked anyway.’ He kisses Grace’s tears away then looks back at me. ‘I’ll take Grace’s car seat for the drive home, she shouldn’t be in a car without a window.’

I nod.

‘I’ll get Autoglass to come out when we’re back.’

‘What if it wasn’t random?’ I finally whisper.

Neil’s head jerks up and Tom looks at me levelly.

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