Wake Wood by KA John Page B

been building inside her since she’d seen the bloody figure of the man emerge from the shell.
    Patrick grabbed her arm. ‘Louise, it’s me. What’s the matter?’
    ‘We have to get out of here.’ She fought to free herself. As soon as she succeeded she charged past Patrick. He ran after her.
    ‘Louise!’
    She heard him but continued to run.
    ‘Louise!’
    She headed for the road. There she’d feel safer than she had in the fields. Cars used the road! People would pass and see her. Strangers who’d help her if she flagged them down and asked them to assist her.
    Nothing could happen to her on the road – unless the people she stopped had been in Arthur’s yard and seen her watching them.
    She continued to run and didn’t slow down until their cottage came into view.
    Dawn was beginning to break, a pale grey line on the horizon as she headed for the back door.
    ‘Louise, you’re behaving as though you’re demented. Stop and talk to me, will you?’ Patrick gasped breathlessly behind her.
    She shrugged his hand from her arm. ‘I just want to go to bed.’ She opened the back door, entered the kitchen, stripped off her sodden coat, boots and jeans. She left her boots to dry on sheets of newspaper. In sweater and underclothes she stepped into the living room.
    Mesmerised, she stood stock still.
    Sitting watching her from one of the easy chairs at the side of the fireplace, very much at home and as comfortable as if he owned the place, was Arthur.

Six
    LOUISE SHIVERED FROM more than cold as Arthur continued to appraise her coolly. The expression on his face reminded her of the dispassionate way she’d seen farmers eye livestock in auction pens.
    Terrified, she called out, ‘Patrick.’ She’d intended to shout, but she barely managed a croak.
    It was Arthur who broke the silence. ‘Louise.’ He was as relaxed as if he were acknowledging her arrival at a garden party.
    Louise sensed Patrick moving into the doorway behind her. His presence gave her the impetus she needed to flee. She charged up the stairs. Heart pounding, legs trembling, she sank down on a stair close to the top, out of Arthur’s immediate reach. She crouched over, covering as much of her bare legs as she could with her oversized sweater, all the while fighting the fear that crawled down her spine, icy and paralysing.
    Patrick glared at his senior partner. ‘Arthur, what on earth are you doing here?’ he demanded incredulously.
    ‘I just wanted to make sure everything was all right.’ Arthur spoke quietly, conversationally, as if he were an invited guest. ‘With both of you,’ he added.
    ‘What do you mean? Why shouldn’t everything be all right with us?’ Patrick’s voice rose as his initial surprise was superseded by anger.
    ‘Well, is it all right with you?’ Arthur pressed, looking up to where Louise was ensconced on the stairs in sweater and panties.
    ‘Our car broke down in the middle of nowhere. We walked to your place hoping you’d be able to help us. We couldn’t raise you … But …’ Patrick’s voice rose in indignation when he realised that he was actually offering Arthur an explanation for their behaviour when Arthur was the one who should be making excuses for his unpardonable rudeness in breaking into their cottage. ‘What’s this, Arthur? Why have you just let yourself in to hang out in our house?’
    Arthur smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have. Country habits, I suppose. We’re used to unlocked doors and treating our neighbours’ homes as our own in Wake Wood. I’d forgotten that you haven’t had time to become accustomed to our rustic ways. What did you say happened to your car?’
    ‘I told you, it broke down,’ Patrick reiterated irritably.
    ‘And you came to my house looking for help. Well, that would make sense.’ Arthur glanced up the stairs at Louise, who was watching him intently.
    ‘It makes sense!’ Patrick repeated in bewilderment. ‘Sense! Nothing makes sense! What the