Girl on the Run by Rhoda Baxter

wasn't.
    The city was eerie at that time of night. Aside from the odd person hurrying home and the islands of light and sound around the pubs, the streets were empty. The little alleys and byways between buildings that made London such a joy to explore in the daytime became black holes along which the cold wind blew.
    As she passed her office building, Jane paused and looked up at the floor she worked on. There were lights still on. She wondered if Marsh was still in there, getting his things and changing into his running gear. She could go up and speak to him. But then, what would she say? What excuse would she have for returning? Shaking her head, she walked on.
    She was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. This wasn't like her. Without thinking about it, she turned into the small alleyway next to the pub that led out into Fleet Street.
    Her footsteps echoed in the dark alleyway. She caught a waft of something smoky and acrid. More than just tobacco. Her senses snapped back to the present. Ahead of her a bright spark glowed and then expanded to show a shadowed face.
    ‘ Hello, darlin'.’
    She stumbled backward s and heard a snigger behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder showed a dark silhouette against the mouth of the alley.
    Fear tightened her throat so that the scream hovering there came out little more than a squeak.
    ‘There now,’ the man with the cigarette said. ‘No one's about to hear you.’
    He stepped toward s her.
    Jane frantically tried to remember what she'd learned in a long-ago self-defen ce class. She shrank back, into the hands of the man behind her.
    ‘ Hey!’ The shout was accompanied by running footsteps. The man holding Jane swore. He shoved her to the ground and the other one snatched her handbag. They fled as the footsteps came closer.
    Jane huddled on the icy ground, unable to move.
    Her saviour came to a stop beside her, panting. She stole a peek and saw a dark, hooded figure, barely visible in the weak light. It bent towards her.
    ‘ Are you Ok?’
    His voice was familiar. Her terrified mind refused to put a label on it.
    Jane attempted to sit up. ‘I think so. Just a bit … shaken.’ He helped her get to her feet. ‘They took my bag,’ she said, still dazed.
    ‘ Can you walk? It might be wise to get into the light.’
    The unspoken words 'in case they come back' sprang to the forefront of her mind. She followed him towards the end of the alley, walking slowly, still too dazed to think properly.
    ‘Are you sure you're all right?’
    She looked up and this time she recognised his voice. ‘Marsh?’
    ‘ Jane?’
    ‘ Marsh.’ She went limp with relief. ‘Thank goodness.’
    He led her to the main road and along to a bus stop, his arm half-supporting her. Her legs were still too wobbly to support her entirely, so she sank onto a prop seat. Only then did she really see Marsh. He was dressed in a hoodie and running shorts. He must have been on his way home.
    He pushed back his hood. ‘Did they do anything to you?’
    Jane shook her head. ‘They stole my bag.’
    ‘ That's no big deal. So long as you're not hurt.’
    ‘ Thank you. I'm glad you came along.’
    Marsh made a small sound. ‘I was leaving the office when I saw you go into the alley. I came this way, to make sure you were Ok. If I had known it was you, I'd have caught up sooner. What on earth were you doing down a dark alley anyway? It's safer going the long way round.’
    ‘ I guess I wasn't concentrating.’ She couldn't very well say she had been thinking about him. She knew she had been very lucky. If Marsh hadn't been leaving the office at exactly the right time … The realisation of what could have happened hit her and she started to shake.
    Marsh put a hand on her arm. ‘I think you're in shock. Let's get you somewhere warm.’ He looked around. ‘There's nowhere near here … apart from work.’
    ‘ No. Not work.’
    ‘ I'll call a taxi and take you home.’
    Jane thought of the flat, with Polly