Then my head was thrust backwards so forcefully, I felt the grinding and tearing of muscle, could taste blood in my mouth as my teeth slammed into my tongue. The impact of the back of my head hitting the top of the car was the last thing I remembered. That and the feeling of my body giving way beneath me.

Chapter Forty-Five

Rachel

The first thing I was aware of was the pain in my head. It was unlike any headache I’d ever had before. I felt as if my eye socket had been crushed. Even in my half consciousness, I knew something was badly wrong. I felt sick with the pain and there was a foul taste in my mouth. Vomit mixed with blood. My head spinning, I opened my eyes, but it was so dark, I couldn’t figure out where I was.

Except I knew he was beside me. I could hear his breathing. Smell him. We were still in his car, but we weren’t moving. I tried to orientate myself but wherever we were, there were no streetlights, no sound of passing traffic. We were alone. But as my eyes adjusted I could see we weren’t in the car park at Ness Woods any more.

‘You’ve been out a while,’ Michael said. ‘I was starting to wonder if I’d hit your head too hard before.’

There was a flare as a match was struck and he lit a cigarette. From the brief glow of the flame I could see we were surrounded by buildings.

‘Do you not recognise it?’ Michael asked, blowing smoke in my direction.

The acrid smell of it made me choke. I needed to run. I needed to get my bearings. I slid my left hand to the door handle and pulled at it, but the door wouldn’t open.

He tutted. ‘Child lock,’ was all he said.

‘Please,’ I said, my mouth parched. It was still so warm even though it was dark. There wasn’t a breath of air in the car. ‘Please, just let me go, Michael. I’ve the girls to get home to. They need me.’

He shook his head. ‘Don’t you know where you are?’

I could see shadows, shapes emerging in the darkness. It was starting to look familiar.

Michael flicked on the headlights of the car for just a few seconds. Long enough for me to see exactly where we were and to know that there’d be no one within hearing distance. Set back from the road, the abandoned school site at St Catherine’s – where Clare, Julie and I had been pupils – had long been boarded up, the grounds left to rot and let nature reclaim while decisions were being made about a new purpose. It had been at least ten years since any pupils had walked through these corridors.