I took a huge breath, turned on my heels, and ran back the way I’d come. There was a side street on my left and I raced around the corner and along the quiet street and then turned into a road that was parallel to the one I’d walked down before.

All was quiet. I couldn’t hear any car engines or footsteps; nobody was on the streets. Some of the houses had lights on in either the living room or bedrooms at the fronts of the houses and as I ran I made a mental note as to where I could bang on the door.

It was still more than a mile to my house, through all the back streets. I went a zigzag route, always choosing the street with the most lights on downstairs. By the time I reached my street all I could hear was the blood pumping through my veins, the pulse in my ears, my heart beating like a drum.

Holding my keys in position, I raced to my front door. My fingers slipped over the key as I tried to insert it. As the lock turned I thrust the door open and slammed it behind me.

When I was safely upstairs I stood in the hallway, panting. The light from a nearby lamppost shone in through the window. In my bedroom I stood at the edge of the window and looked up and down the yards and the backs of houses on the road parallel to mine. All was still. Slowly I drew the curtains, but I didn’t put a lamp on.

The kitchen looked out onto houses on the side street. That, too, was silent, though enough lights were lit to reassure me. Quickly I pulled down the blind. Again I didn’t switch the light on in case my shadow could be seen.

In the living room I relied on the hallway light to guide me to the window. I flattened myself against the wall and looked out onto the street.

And then I saw a silver car crawl down the road. There was no reason for it to move that slowly; there was no other traffic about. The driver was on the other side of the road to my house and I couldn’t see them at all. At first I thought of using my phone to film it, but I couldn’t risk its light being seen. I grabbed a pen and paper to write down the number plate but the street was dark and I couldn’t make it out. I stayed hidden and watched as the car turned down the side road, just past my house. A few minutes later it was back.

Someone was watching me.

CHAPTER 46

Emma