Someone Who Isn't Me, Danuta Kot [good books to read for adults TXT] 📗

no idea if she was heading the right way or not. She’d followed signs where she remembered names and kept the coast on her left.

She was on a main road now. If she’d got this right, it would be the one she wanted, the one where she could turn off into Sunk Island. If it was wrong… then she was lost. There was a junction ahead, a left turn. This one? There was no signpost.

Her lights picked out the road name.

Sunk Island Road.

This was it. She was almost past the turn. She swerved and hauled the bike round, the tyres giving a horrible squeal. The bike, briefly out of control, skidded from one side to another, and then she was upright again and heading on into the night. A horn blared as a car raced past on the main road, and then she was in the countryside on a narrow road that ran into emptiness and silence.

This place was just nothing, just the middle of nowhere. It couldn’t be far now. Who’d choose to live here?

Kay would.

And she knew she was telling herself all these things to try and get rid of the fear that was growing inside her. She wasn’t scared any more that Johnny Dip was after her – he’d have caught up with her fast if he’d seen her go. But she was scared about what was happening, scared that she might be bringing trouble down on Kay, scared about what might have already happened to Kay, about being lost in the night in this place where the land seemed to go on forever.

The place where Andy had died.

The road was getting narrower and after the village, there weren’t any houses. When she shone her headlights to either side, it was just field after field after field. Maybe it went on forever. Maybe she’d just keep on driving, on and on, and she’d never find a house, never find Kay, never find her way back.

She was so tired it was hard to think. Her headlights wandered across the road and she realised she must have fallen asleep for a second. And suddenly a crossroads came straight out of the darkness at her. She jammed on her brakes, feeling the wheels skid before she got control again.

Jared’s voice spoke in her head. Fuck’s sake, Becca.

All right, all right. She almost said it out loud. She stopped the bike and climbed off, stretching and easing her tight muscles. She could do this. She could keep going. She used to go dancing all night in Leeds when she was a student. She’d driven with Andy right down to Hull and they’d danced until the small hours. And she’d got up for work in the morning feeling great.

She could do this.

She’d made it here, kept herself on the right route all along. This was Stone Creek Road, and there was a house, right here at the crossroads. Her spirits lifted. How many houses were there in Sunk Island? There was a good chance this would be Kay’s. And there was a light on. Someone was in.

But it wasn’t Kay. The car outside wasn’t Kay’s and no dog barked when she opened the garden gate and approached the front door.

OK, back on the bike. You can do this.

In her headlights, the road was just a stretch of tarmac that vanished into darkness. There were no houses, nothing. She was back in the nightmare.

Another crossroads.

Still nothing.

What kind of place had Kay moved to?

She was near the end of Stone Creek Road and hadn’t found Kay’s house. Defeat closed over her. Maybe it went on after the crossroads. Wearily, she climbed back on the bike and drove on, following the long curve of the empty road, and then there was another house ahead on her right.

She felt herself relax. This had to be Kay’s.

Had to be.

She pulled up. The car outside was a battered Land Rover, but that didn’t mean anything. Kay might have a visitor. Her car might be hidden round the side of the house. Becca walked up the short path, but there was no sign of another car. No dog barked.

She stood there, not wanting to accept it, but she had to. This wasn’t the right house.

She straddled the bike again and sat there for a few minutes, letting the disappointment fade, then drove slowly along and before too long, she saw a hedge, a wall, and then dimly shadowed against the sky, a roof with tall chimneys.

This one probably wasn’t Kay’s either. Kay probably didn’t live anywhere near here – Becca must have misread the address and she’d just have to deal with it, because that’s what you did when things went wrong. You dealt with it.

She pulled up outside the gate. It was standing wide open, but there was no sign of a car. Becca climbed slowly off the bike. If this wasn’t Kay’s then she’d gone so wrong she’d have to… She didn’t know what.

Slowly, she went in through the gate. She kept telling herself this couldn’t be Kay’s because she couldn’t face the disappointment, not again. No car. Her heart sank.

As she approached the window, there was a sudden explosion of barking, and she saw Milo jumping up, his furious barking changing into excited whines as he recognised her.

Relief flooded through her. This was Kay’s house and, OK, no car meant Kay wasn’t here, but if she’d left Milo, she wouldn’t be away for long. She checked her watch. It was after two, but Kay would have to be back soon.

‘It’s OK, Milo,’ she said as Milo’s whining reached a higher pitch. Could she manage to get in? She set off round the house, looking for a back door.

And there was a car. It was pulled up in the shadows by the side of the house, near a door like a cupboard in the wall, which was open.

‘Kay?’ It came out as a whisper.

‘Who’s started that fucking dog off again. We’ll have half of the—’

The voice came