The Runaway Woman (28 page)

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Authors: Josephine Cox

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BOOK: The Runaway Woman
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She seemed more confident in herself somehow.
She even remembered what he had told her about his business trip, and she duly ordered him to stay safe on his travels, and said she was looking forward to seeing him when he came home.

Just now, with good thoughts lifting his spirits, and with the train chugging out a musical rhythm, he felt he could close his eyes and snatch a few winks.

Unfortunately, he had copious notes to make, and a few
ideas to set out. He leaned down to dig into his briefcase, and as he glanced up, he noticed the woman who was seated by the door. For some reason, she caught his attention.

He had a feeling that he knew her from somewhere – the naturally unkempt, brown hair in particular seemed familiar to him – but she was reading a newspaper so he could not see the whole of her face. If only she would just
look up, he might remember.

Turning his attention to the documents in his briefcase, he decided he must be wrong about knowing the woman; he must just have simply caught a fleeting glimpse of her on the platform.

He was soon deep in figures and calculations, although he could not resist stealing another glance at the woman before finally concentrating wholly on his work.

For the umpteenth time
he scrutinised the terms he had outlined in the offer. To his mind, both the offer and the terms were fair, especially considering the amount of money that was needed to rescue the dilapidated building.

Having considered all that, he reminded himself that he must not be too rigid in his terms. A good businessman should always leave room to wheel and deal if necessary. He did not want to leave
that meeting without having secured Nancy’s long-held dream of owning her own hotel on the coast; even if it meant spending money and long hours bringing a derelict building back to life.

Nancy had considered three other possible buildings, but the first time she and Dave had visited this once grand place, she instantly fell in love with it.

‘This is the one,’ she had declared, and nothing and
no one could change her mind.

For the two-hour journey, Lucy decided to remain in her seat.

She noticed with interest that the stranger also remained seated; although on the two occasions when she stretched her neck to look at him, he appeared to be busy working.

Lucy was intrigued as to what his business might be. Something about his demeanour and constant attendance to
his briefcase made her curious as to whether he might have his own business. Certainly he had the air of an ambitious and capable man.

As she shifted in her seat, she groaned at the twinge in her lower back. She so wanted to get up and walk about, but her every instinct warned her not to draw the man’s attention to herself. So in order to relieve her aching bones she found a semblance of comfort
in slipping off her shoes and wiggling her feet.

When the train slowed and finally swept into the station, Lucy gave a huge sigh of relief. She knew she had arrived at the correct place when she noticed the big sign outside: ‘LITTLETON’.

‘You’ve done it, Lucy girl!’ she whispered excitedly. ‘You’ve actually done it!’ And her glad heart gave the tiniest little lurch. She felt quite emotional.

A curt announcement over the tannoy reminded passengers that they had arrived at their destination, and requested that they disembark with care and remember to collect their luggage and belongings on leaving.

Determined to get off the train before the stranger might catch sight of her, Lucy was quickly at the door and in front of the queue as the train drew to a halt.

She deliberately kept her
back to where the stranger had been sitting, even though she suspected he might be getting off at the door further up.

When the train stopped safely, Lucy quickly clambered off.

Hiding herself in the centre of the surging throng of bodies all sweeping forward in the same direction, she noticed the stranger some distance in front. He was slightly taller than those around him, and easily recognised
by his thick, dark hair and the straight, broad cut of his shoulders.

Lucy kept her distance, being immensely thankful that so far he had not seen her.

A moment later, the stranger was through the turnstile and instantly approached by a man in a dark suit. From the friendly greeting, Lucy deduced that they knew each other. She was glad that they fell into what appeared to be a very deep conversation,
because now she was able to go forward with less fear of being spotted.

Taking her chance, she quickened her footsteps and forced her way through. She kept on the far side of the crowd, away from the stranger, who remained huddled in conversation with the other man, who was holding out a document.

Lucy twice caught the stranger’s gaze drifting around as though he was wishing the other man might
leave.

Having grown confident that she had successfully avoided what could have been an awkward encounter with him, Lucy was horrified when, curious, she dared to glance up, only to see the stranger looking directly at her, astonishment on his face as he appeared to recognise her. She quickly turned away, panicking as she hurried forward to force herself through the crowd.

A minute or so later,
having successfully got through the turnstiles, where she hurried through to the exit as best she could with her luggage. Outside, she headed for the taxi rank. ‘Taxi!’ She waved her arms to attract attention. ‘Taxi!’

The first taxi driver cruised towards her and wound down his window. ‘Climb in, lady.’ He was a skinny, bony man, with a long face. As she walked towards him, carrying her suitcase,
he poked his head out of the window and impatiently raised his voice. ‘Hey, lady! Just so’s you know, I’m still waiting on you, and the clock’s already ticking.’

‘Just a minute!’ Lucy frantically searched her handbag for the name and address of the hotel.

She was so flustered that she dropped the piece of paper on the ground. Grabbing it up, she quickly glanced over it. ‘Er … let me see … Littleton
village,’ she told him breathlessly. ‘Hotel … what was it? Oh, here we are, Hotel Lorriet.’ She gave a sigh of relief.

‘OK. I know the one!’ He smiled, and his entire face disappeared behind a mouthful of big, yellow teeth. ‘Are you all right with your case?’

Whether she was ‘all right’ or not, he made no effort to get out and help. Impatient, he revved the engine.

Having secured her case on
the floor of the cab, Lucy was frantically trying to swing the door shut when she saw the stranger heading straight for the taxi rank, his neck craned as he focused on the row of cabs, seemingly looking for someone.

Lucy wondered if he was looking for her. And now she was convinced that he really had recognised her back there.

Fearing he might see her, Lucy slammed the door and urged the driver,
‘Please! Can we go?’

‘Absolutely.’ He absent-mindedly ran the flat of his hand down his long, thin hair. ‘Oh … sorry, the hotel … the Lorriet, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, that’s it. Can we please go now?’

But Lucy then became increasingly concerned that she might have got the name of the hotel wrong. ‘Wait a minute … I’m not sure now.’ She grabbed her handbag and searched again for the paper on which
she had written the address. She frantically delved through the thousand and one items rammed into her bag. Inevitably the bag toppled over and out spewed the entire paraphernalia, rolling away in all directions on the floor.

‘Dammit!’ She glanced up. ‘Sorry. Just a minute.’ For just the smallest moment, she began to regret ever setting out on this trip.

The driver was none too pleased. ‘The
clock is still ticking, miss! So, is it the Lorriet, or not?’

‘I’m not altogether sure now.’ Lucy was completely flummoxed. ‘Please, you’re making me panic. Could you just drive out of the station? I’ve got the hotel written down here … somewhere.’

‘So, are you saying it’s not the Lorriet after all?’

‘No! I’m not saying that. I’m just saying I want to make sure … if you’ll just take us out
of the station, please? And I do know the clock is ticking, but I would really appreciate it if you would try to be patient. The thing is, I’m not really used to travelling.’

‘Yes, I can see that.’ In fact he thought she should never have been let out in the first place, wasting his precious time.

And another thing! How could he be sure that she even had enough money to pay for his fare?

He
informed her that if he was being made to run up unnecessary mileage because she had given him the wrong address, she would have to pay the bill, because it would be her fault and not his.

His caution fell on deaf ears. ‘I’ve got it!’ she cried, holding out the piece of paper. ‘Yes! That’s it, the Lorriet.’ She thrust the paper under his nose. ‘See! The Lorriet Hotel on Balmont Street.’

Seeing
the many articles strewn all over the cab floor, he grinned wickedly. ‘My! My! You really are in a panic, aren’t you?’ he chuckled. ‘And why’s that, I wonder, eh?’ He fancied himself to be a bit of a joker. ‘For all I know, you could be an armed prisoner on the run … or you might have just done a robbery and there’s a wad of money hidden about your person. Is that it? Or maybe you’re planning to
kidnap me, hoping to get a ransom.’

He then launched into a string of childish, bawdy innuendoes, which did not impress Lucy at all, though he seemed enormously amused with himself, chuckling and then roaring with laughter. Lucy couldn’t decide whether to make him stop the car and let her out, or smack him one round the ear.

Either way, she did not enjoy his company, or his lousy jokes. She
just wanted to reach her destination sooner rather than later. ‘How long will it take us to get there?’ she asked.

‘Dunno, lady. How long is a piece of string?’

Unimpressed by his gormless wit, Lucy decided to ignore him.

Having perused the documents from his architect on the train, and learned some very useful information regarding his business venture from them, Dave Benson
made his way out of the station.

As he came through the outer doors, he was saddened at the sight of Lucy being driven away in the cab. ‘Hopefully our paths may well cross again,’ he murmured, and went on his way.

He knew now without a doubt that this was the same woman he and Nancy had found hiding in the bus shelter on that cold, rainy night. She had seemed terribly sad and alone, and he
knew just how that felt. He hadn’t been able to rid his mind of this odd connection between them – first at the bus shelter, then the night he had seen her on the bus, and now here she was in Littleton!

He flagged down the next taxi. ‘Meridian Hotel, on Viaduct Street, please.’

Without waiting for the driver to acknowledge, he climbed into the cab.

As they moved on, Dave asked the driver, ‘Did
you happen to see the woman who got into the cab in front of you?’

The driver thought a moment. ‘Let me see … oh yes! Mid-thirties … early forties … not what you might call a beauty, at least not that I could see. But she did have a fine shock of chestnut-brown hair … and a tasty set of pins. Is that the one you mean?’

Dave smiled. ‘Yes, that’s the one.’ Although he had not noticed her ‘pins’,
tasty or otherwise. ‘You wouldn’t happen to have heard where she’s headed, would you?’

‘Nope, ’fraid not. Why? Know ’er, d’you?’

‘Well, no, not really … I mean, I have met her before.’

‘And you’d like to meet her again, is that it?’ The driver gave a sly little wink. ‘Can’t say I blame you. Her figure’s not bad, and she does have an attractive face.’

‘I don’t suppose you know the driver of
that cab?’ Dave asked.

‘Sorry again, but no. Most of us are freelancers … we rarely have time to chat.’

‘So, you wouldn’t know of any way I might get in touch with him, then?’

‘Sorry, mate. I’d help you if I could, but …’ He shrugged, and Dave got the message.

‘I see. Well, it’s no matter, but thanks anyway.’ Dave was curiously disappointed to think that this gentle and intriguing woman was
actually here, and he had lost his chance to renew their acquaintance.

Also, most interestingly, she appeared to be all alone, as she had been the first time they met, and when he’d seen her in the street. That made him wonder. Was she divorced … widowed, or maybe she’d got family responsibilities and she had never married?

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