WHO FOLLOWS: a gripping, dramatic, intense and suspenseful thriller Read Online Free Page B

Sensible adult actions. I never go to the woods at the top of the heath. I know that should I go there my feet would be drawn inexorably to that spot where the earth is soft and the moss smells of damp and rot. That way lies disaster. I never see any of our old acquaintances. This is easy as I moved away from our old flat after the event. I don’t play the music that she liked, I have discarded many discs and films that we listened to and watched together. Yes, I decided very quickly that the best way to insulate myself was to try to behave as if the whole sad, sad affair had never happened. But it did, didn’t it? And so now and again when my guard is down she intrudes. It has made me afraid, afraid to hope and to trust, I couldn’t bear it should I find myself in that place again.
    No, no I don’t need to go down that road. I had dreaded that something of that nature would happen but in the event, we spent a wonderful evening of friendship and laughter and before I could take things any further it was time for her to go. As we stood in the hall waiting for the taxi, I took her hand ready to declare myself and she simply smiled and leaned to me and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
    “What a lovely evening we have had. You must come to me next time and we must make it soon.” And at that the taxi blew its horn and she was gone. I felt bereft and stupid to be frank and even now can’t explain how I let things get so much away from me.
    Now I am sitting here unwilling to go upstairs, I know that tonight Maria will be with me. I have a feeling of dread and a solid lump of disquiet in my stomach. I will need to remain sleepless, on guard. I will do some work and then if that doesn’t help there is no other option but to go and run in the dark streets with the rain glistening on the cobbles and the silence of the night to wrap up my thoughts and deaden the memory.

Chapter 13
    I have tried to work but the wine will have its way and no meaningful progress will be made tonight.
    It feels strange to be donning running gear with the street lamps peering through the gaps in the curtains and the house creaking in the way that houses only do in the darkest hours. I feel a thrill, I am not afraid, I will take a whistle with me and my confidence and all will be well.
    As I pull the door closed quietly behind me the damp air kisses my cheek and moisture very quickly coats the skin of my face. There is the feel of rain in the air and the trees drip quietly into the silence.
    Down the path and turn, to the left. No, no tonight I will take the other route. The wine fizzes in my blood and my nerves tingle as I head for the Heath. I shouldn’t do this I know but there is madness in me now. Where did it come from? I don’t know, but it enthrals me and the decision is made to let it draw me onwards down roads that I have avoided for some two years. Up the once familiar slope to the top of the Heath and then across the gravel and there it is before me now, the wood.
    Shivers trickle up and down my spine as my pulse quickens more from the strange excitement than from the jogging. Oh I know I am no longer young but I have stayed fit, partly because of good genes and partly because of effort. The exercise has taken very little toll on my breathing but this thing that I am about to do causes my lungs to feel deprived and my heart to thud in a way that is part discomfort, part thrill. My knees shake, and my hands tremble.
    The branches are lowered with the weight of the rain on the leaves and they grab and reach at me as I enter the darkness. There is no need for a torch. The moonlight and the small glow from the street lamps are enough. Though I haven’t been this way for many months I know the pathway as if I trod it only yesterday. In the night watches I have imagined this journey over and over. The weight of the body, the stickiness of the drying blood and yes, I admit it, the horror of what I had done. It has become now like a dream or a