TORN (41 page)

The sound of Fiona opening the passenger door made him look up. ‘What was that?’ she asked, looking back down the road, her voice trembling. ‘What did we…?’

He stood up and peered in the same direction.  ‘Dead sheep I think.’

  ‘It didn’t look like—’

Colin sighed in exasperation. ‘What else would it be? Stupid animals are always wandering out into the road around here. Farmers ought to take better care of them.’ He removed his glasses and wiped the drizzle off them. ‘Jimmy hit one last month in his Land Rover. Made a right bloody mess of the front end, I can tell you.’  He put his glasses back on. ‘Where are you going?’

Fiona was already stumbling up the road on her high heels. ‘It didn’t look like a sheep to me,’ she continued doggedly.  ‘Even if it was, we need to get it out of the road before somebody else hits it.’

‘Forget about the bloody sheep,’ he growled. ‘How are we supposed to get the car out of this ditch?’

He crouched down again and examined the spoiler. It was already pretty messed up so, really, backing the car up could hardly do it any more damage ...

‘Oh, God, shit!’

Colin stood up again and stared down the road to where Fiona stood, her green dress almost ghostly against the dark hedgerows.  ‘What now?’ he called out irritably.

His wife said nothing, she just stood with her hands clamped to her mouth.

Colin squinted at her face as he approached, suddenly disconcerted by how pale she looked against the beams of the car’s headlights.

‘What is …’  The words froze before he could finish his sentence, and his eyes locked on to what lay at her feet. 

‘Fuck …’

For a moment neither of them moved, then Colin turned and vomited on to the road, the viscous liquid splattering his expensive shoes and the leg of his designer suit.

The body of a young woman lay on the road. Even in the darkness they could see that she was barefoot and wearing nothing but a pale nightdress and the only burst of color came from her thick, red, curly hair.  There were cuts and scrapes all over her body, a deep gash in her head, and a bone sticking out of her ankle at an unnatural angle. For a horrible moment, Colin worried that he had caused that, but then he remembered he’d swerved in time to avoid hitting her.

Or had he?

‘Is she…’

‘Dead …?’  Fiona whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘Without a doubt.’ 

The girl’s skin was pale, and she had an almost ethereal look as she lay on the dark road, her red hair framing her face, her body and white clothing seeming to glow against the darkness around them.

‘On this road, at this time of night, she could have been here hours without anyone seeing her...’

Fiona snapped open her handbag. ‘I’ll call 999.’

Colin glanced around. ‘Should we move her or …?’

‘Better not.’ She glanced at him, her voice full of meaning. ‘Just in case.’

‘Oh Christ.’ Colin’s chest tightened. Surely nobody would think they’d run her over? He knew he hadn’t hit her, and despite the damage to the front of the car that should be easy to prove, shouldn’t it?

Bending down, he hovered over the girl’s body. As he glanced again at the extent of her injuries, he frowned, noticing something.

Her long hair was splayed across to one side, revealing the base of her neck. On the skin Colin could make out a strange pattern disappearing beneath the nightgown.

His eyes narrowed as he tried to process what he was looking at.

‘Holy Christ,’ he muttered. ‘What the hell is that?’

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