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She closed her eyes, panic mixing with the fear inside her.
I have to go, Lord. Leave here. There is nothing else I can do. I can't stay. I thought this was over
.

Pounding came from the scorched front door. She jumped and gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth in terror.

“You can't hide in there forever, Amy Childs. You hurt my brother. You're mine. The courts let you off, I won't do the same. Watch your every step because I'm coming for you.”

Footsteps moved away and after a couple of minutes, the black car drove off. She couldn't ask the police for help. She was a convicted criminal, in the same category as a murderer or the guy hunting her down. If she stayed here, she'd die. He'd already tried once with the fire and again with the arrow.

She ignored the small voice telling her if Saunders wanted to kill her, she'd be dead already. There was no way out but to run. She threw a change of clothes into a rucksack and pulled out the tin from under the bed. She checked to make sure the contents were there, before sliding it into the pack, along with several other things she needed. She ran her fingers through her hair.
I can't cut it. What about dyeing it?

Dying… What if she were dead? There'd been a TV program years ago, where a man had pretended to drown in the sea and in reality gone off to start a new life somewhere else. She could do that.

She nodded at her reflection. She'd always fancied going red—even gone as far as buying the hair dye a while ago before losing her nerve, so that's what she'd do.

An hour later, she looked in the mirror at her red hair. It was going to take some getting used to. She tied it back and shoved the towels she'd used into her rucksack. Pulling a hat over her head to hide her hair, she wheeled the bike outside and locked up the house. A pang of regret filled her at the thought of leaving everything behind. But she didn't have a choice.

The ride to the beach only took five minutes. Having locked the bike up on the prom, she headed down to her usual spot, which as always, despite the warmth of the day, was empty. She laid out her towel and put her book, sunglasses, and suntan lotion on it. She set her clothes in a pile next to it and ran her fingers over the phone for a long time before typing a message to Rosalie.
I'm sorry. Forgive me.

Amy took a deep breath and hit send. This was it. There was no going back. Picking up only the rucksack, she stood. Her purse, along with all her cards, ID, and everything else that tied her to this life, she left behind.

Ducking under the pier, she started walking towards the station and the first train to London she could catch. From there she'd just pick somewhere and trust God to guide her some place safe.

 



 

A day later, Amy got off the train in Headley Cross, some four hundred miles from Filely, just after ten thirty in the morning. She'd arrived in London far too late to do anything other than sleep on a bench the previous evening. Even the cheapest motel had wanted ID and a credit card for payment, and she didn't have either. Cash she had aplenty.

Headley Cross had been the seventh stop on the seventh train out of London when she'd woken. She had no idea where she was, but trusted God had a reason for bringing her safely here. Now she needed to find a job and somewhere to live. Not necessarily in that order either, but preferably at least a room before it got dark tonight.

She could find a hotel, but that would only be temporary and again they'd want ID and a credit card no doubt.

And a church. She needed to find one of those, too.

Walking down the High Street, she paused outside the newsagents and read the cards in the window. Room to let…how much a month? She sucked in a deep breath. That was more than the rent on her entire house back home.

She ran her finger down the glass. Cleaner, gardener, nanny… The ad for the nanny expired today.

Live-in nanny required for immediate start. Two children age twelve and six. Light household duties, some cooking, cleaning, and laundry. £300 pcm. Ring D. Philips on 07595 648092.

The job had probably gone, but there was no harm in asking. A live-in nanny position would kill the two proverbial birds with the one stone. Amy pulled out her new pay-as-you-go mobile and dialed the number on the card. She paced as she waited for an answer.

“Philips.” The curt male voice caught her by surprise. For some reason she'd expected a woman to answer.

“Hi. Could I speak to a D. Philips please?”

“Speaking.”

“My name's Amy Stabler. I'm calling about your ad for the nanny in the shop window. Has the position been filled yet? The card expires today and—”

“No, the position is still open.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “I'd like to apply for it.”

“Wonderful. I can meet you over coffee to talk about it. Bring your CV with you. There's a café on the High Street, the Three-Sixteen. I'll be there in ten minutes.”

Amy looked around, not seeing it immediately. “OK. See you then.” She hung up and then realized she had no idea what the bloke looked like.

At least finding the café shouldn't be hard. She hoped.

Then she paused. She didn't have a CV and no time to make one up. She'd just have to be as honest as she could and hope and pray it would be enough.

 



 

Dane hung up and looked back at Nate. “What's that withering glance for?”

Nate's eyebrow went higher. “You're meeting a snout in the Three-Sixteen?”

Dane shook his head. The Three-Sixteen was a Christian café run by the church both he and Nate attended, Headley Baptist. “No. That was someone asking about the nanny job. I'm going to interview her on my break. The ad runs out today so if she's no good I need to come up with another plan.”

“Like an agency that checks out all their staff. Want me to sit in?”

“And freak her out?” Dane loosened his tie. “No. You can sit at another table and hide behind a paper. Let's go.”

“You said ten minutes.”

“I want to be early. Besides it's just over the road.”

Three minutes later, Dane sat at a table in the corner, a mug of gingerbread coffee in his hand, watching people coming in and out.
Lord, if this is Your will, let her be the one. She's the only person who's enquired, and I'm running out of time.

Finally someone he didn't recognize came in. She was stunning and young. At a rough guess he'd say mid- to late twenties. Her long red hair hung in waves to half-way down her chest. Her clothes were creased, yet smart. Nevertheless, she looked weighted down.

Brown eyes darted around the room. Was she looking for him or someone else? Was that her? She walked to the counter and spoke to Lia, the barista.

Lia nodded and handed her the drink that he'd already paid for.

The woman picked it up and walked to his table. “Mr. Philips?”

He stood up and held out a hand. “You must be Miss Stabler.”

“Amy, yes.” Her hand was cold and soft in his, but her grip was firmer than he anticipated. “Thank you for the coffee.”

He indicated the chair opposite. “You're welcome. I could hardly invite you for an interview over coffee and make you buy your own. Have a seat.”

“Thank you. I couldn't find my CV, I'm sorry. Is that going to be a problem?” She slid into the seat opposite him, setting her pack on the floor by her feet.

At the next table, Nate sat sipping coffee from behind his paper, but Dane knew he was watching them intently. And listening. And what's more, he could feel Nate's disapproval from here.

He shook his head and turned his attention back to the woman in front of him, as he picked up his coffee. “Normally I'd have your CV in front of me, or at least read it in advance, but as I don't, how about we start with you telling me about yourself? Name, age, marital status and so on.”

She sipped her coffee. “My name's Amy Stabler. I'm twenty-seven and single. I have GCSE's in English, maths, drama and theater arts, music, RE, French, history, and literature. All a grade C or above. As well as BTEC's in science and sport science. I have A levels in English, child development, and drama. I like singing, dancing, cross stitching, and I go to the gym two or three times a week.”

Dane nodded. That was a pretty impressive list. But it left a vast amount of time unspoken for as she'd have left school ten years ago.

“Did you go to university?”

She inclined her head slightly. “I read English and Latin at St. Andrews in Scotland for my major and minored in drama.”

He studied her as he sipped his coffee. Her pupils were fixed and her nostrils flared a little. Nate would insist she was lying, but he wasn't so sure. It could just be nerves. “Have you worked with children before?”

“I helped out in the crèche at the church I used to go to before I moved here. I also did a couple of years as a TA in a school.”

“What's your current job?”

“Currently between jobs. The last one was in a hardware store, doing a bit of everything. I've also done cleaning.”

That's a vast come down from working in a school. I wonder why.
“OK. Well, I have two girls, ages six and twelve. I'm a single parent and work long, irregular hours, hence the need for someone to live in. You'll get your own bedroom, use of the lounge and so on. I'll expect you to clean the girls' rooms, do their laundry, lunches and cook for them the nights I'm not home in time. Also to do morning and afternoon school runs. You'll have sole charge when I'm not there. Obviously with the half-term holiday coming up, you'll need to entertain them.”

“I can do that.”

“How?”

Amy looked at her coffee. “Trips to the park, swimming, craft activities and so on.”

He nodded. “Good answer. Whilst they're at school, aside from the light duties mentioned, your time is your own.”

“OK.” She nodded and hesitated slightly, opening her mouth and then closing it again.

“Go on.”

“In the evenings…am I expected to keep to my room?”

“Not at all—unless you want to. I don't bite or watch football all the time. Feel free to watch the TV or read or whatever.”

“OK.”

He watched her, his copper's instinct on alert. “Is there anything else you want to ask me?”

She shook her head, finishing her coffee.

“Not even how much I'm offering to pay?”

“It mentioned it in the advert.” She swallowed nervously, her hands tightening on the cup. “My last job was four-hundred-and-fifty a month, so it's a fair bit less, but then there's no rent.”

Dane nodded. “I'm giving you board, lodging, and all meals. When I'm around you'll be off duty. So that's pretty much every evening, unless I'm working nights, and almost all weekends.”

“OK.” A faint smile crossed her lips. She was pretty when she smiled. She should do it more often.

He didn't often make a snap decision like this, but something, or Someone, was pushing him into it. “If you'd like the job, it's yours. When can you start?”

“Today if you want.” She paused. “What about references?”

“We'll start with a two week trial.” He tilted his head at the shudder that ran through her at the word trial. “If it doesn't work out, or you don't like it, then I pay you the two weeks and we go our separate ways. Do you drive?”

She looked down, her cheeks going a pale red. “No.”

“OK, it's not a problem. The school is within walking distance, anyway. And the buses are pretty good. I'll meet you at the house at two. That will give me time to show you around, before we do the school run.” He wrote down the address and gave it to her. “I'll need your phone number.”

“Oh…right.” She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I'm not sure how to find the number. It's a new phone…I lost the other one.”

“Unless…” He pulled out his phone and checked the received calls. “Your number's still stored from when you called me earlier, I think.” He hit redial and Amy's phone rang. He added her to his contact list. “There you go.”

She picked up her bag. “I'll see you at two, Mr. Philips.” She stood and headed to the door.

Dane sat down again as she left.

Nate slid into the seat Amy had just vacated and put the folded newspaper on the table. “Well, she's pretty. How did it go?”

“She starts this afternoon.”

“Really? On the basis of a fifteen minute conversation? You hardly know her. Did you get references, qualifications, experience?”

“She told me enough to hire her on a two week trail, which either of us can terminate if need be.”

Nate rolled his eyes. “Dane, these are your kids we're talking about. She might have a record.”

“No one else applied. The Guv is on the war path and as good as told me to sort something out or my job is on the line. What am I meant to do?”

“Use an agency.” He shook his head. “And the fact she's young and pretty has nothing to do with it?”

This time Dane rolled his eyes. “You're a married man.”

His partner pointed at him. “Married, not blind.”

“Whatever, but it's a moot point. I'm old enough to be her father…well almost.”

“That makes her what? Fifteen?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“And you're forty-three. That isn't that big an age gap.”

Dane rolled his eyes again. “Enough of the matchmaking. I need a nanny and she needs a job. And from the way she accepted so fast, ignoring a huge pay cut, somewhere to live as well.”

Nate laughed. “Uh huh.”

“I'll give you uh huh.”

His partner tilted his head. “So I guess I'm covering for you
again
this afternoon.”