Rain clouds rolled in over the sea, but the streets were still packed with sightseers and holidaymakers, as the minibus turned north past the town centre and picked up speed. Nobody noticed they were going in the wrong direction, or even that the man driving them wasn’t Greg, the volunteer from the youth club, until Becky saw how his hair hung lankly over his ears.

‘Who is that?’ She prodded Paul, but he was too busy lunging back and forth, avoiding Simon’s playful punches. ‘Who’s driving us?’

And when the others finally saw it wasn’t Greg, but somebody else completely, nobody was too concerned. Greg had gone home, they thought – he’d been taken ill, or there had been a change of plan and they hadn’t been told – and another driver had stepped in to take his place. All they could see was the back of the man’s head, and an occasional flash in the rear-view mirror of the orange lenses in his glasses.

The two boys thought it was a big joke.

‘Hey, fella, who are you?’ Paul made a funny remark about the man’s hair and everyone laughed. But the driver didn’t respond at all.

‘This isn’t the right way,’ said Simon as the minibus passed the designated drop-off point and headed out of town towards Rochford. ‘Where are we going?’

Seated behind the driver, Michelle told the others in a low voice, ‘I don’t recognize him, he’s not from the club!’

Becky reached over to tap her on the shoulder. ‘Tell him he’s going the wrong way!’

‘Excuse me, but this isn’t the way!’ Michelle told him, but he ignored her.

‘Tell him again,’ Becky insisted. ‘Find out who he is!’

And this time Michelle leaned forward between the front seats to get his attention. ‘Excuse me—’

She screamed and fell back in her chair.

‘What is it?’

Michelle turned to the others. ‘He’s got a knife – a big knife in his lap!’

They all huddled together to talk, trying to work out what was going on, hoping that Michelle was mistaken, or that she was joking. But they knew she wasn’t, because she was weeping with fear.

Sitting quietly at the back, forgotten in the heat of the moment, Karin’s eyes lifted to the rear-view mirror and the man’s orange lenses briefly met her gaze.

‘Let us out!’ screamed Michelle. ‘Let us out now!’

Her panic frightened the others as the minibus headed further into the countryside. The man drove calmly, hands placed on the wheel at ten and two o’clock, pulling up slowly at junctions and lights, staying within the speed limit. Becky beat on the window when a vehicle came the other way – help us! – but it whipped past in an instant.