He carried on staring at the road ahead. He couldn’t pull over or start an argument. There were too many officers around. Instead he gripped the steering wheel as tightly as he could and imagined it was Megan’s neck. He loved her but he wouldn’t have her making fun of him or Annie, or touching her, because she was all his. He whispered ‘You stupid, fucking bitch’ under his breath, which was enough to knock the grin off her face. He glanced at her and was glad to see she had gone white. Good. He hoped she had realised exactly how much she’d crossed the line. He was trying to keep himself calm but he couldn’t, because deep down in the pit of his stomach a tiny flare had gone off, which had ignited the fire. A fire that could only be extinguished by death. It would burn and burn until he had killed someone and she’d better pray it wasn’t her. They got to the caravan but he left the engine running.
Megan looked at him. ‘Are you not coming in?’
Henry shook his head. ‘No, I need some time to think and calm down because right now, Megan, I want to hurt you so bad you wouldn’t believe it. So you best get out of the van and let me have some space.’
Realising she’d overstepped the line she did as she was told without saying another word. She shut the van door and ran up the caravan steps, not even glancing behind her. Good. He wanted her to sit on her own and think about what she’d just said, let her sweat it out and worry if he was going to come back and slit her fucking throat. Henry wasn’t worried that she’d panic and ring the police. Her fingerprints were all over that barn the same way his were. She would be arrested and banged up before she could cry for help. He also knew that he wouldn’t kill her, but he was going to have to kill someone. He needed to go for a drive away from here and hope he would come across someone he could kill on the way. He was having a bad day, but not nearly so bad as whoever he decided was going to die today.
The roads were busy but that was okay. It kept his mind occupied. He decided to turn left at the roundabout at Newby Bridge and head in the opposite direction to Barrow and Detective Will Ashworth. It was getting dusky and he had been driving for some time when he saw the flashing orange hazard lights in the distance. All the other cars kept on zooming past but Henry was intrigued to know who it was that had broken down on this deserted stretch of road. No doubt they had phoned for help, but if it was a woman alone, regardless of what she looked like, she would do the trick. He didn’t care if she didn’t match Megan’s profile. He needed to kill. He was pretty sure Megan wouldn’t argue either when he told her it was a choice between her and this complete stranger. He indicated and pulled up behind. He could see a woman who looked about the same age as Megan shouting down her phone at someone. He got out of the van and smiled at her.
‘Do you need a hand?’
She looked at him. In a split second she appeared to decide that this middle-aged man wearing a baseball cap that looked pretty stupid wasn’t a threat. She nodded her head. ‘Ring me back when you’re on your way. There’s someone here. They might be able to help.’
He watched her slip her phone into her pocket. ‘Would you mind? It started to judder and then it completely cut out on me. Do you know much about cars?’
‘I know a little.’ He grinned at her and walked over to the bonnet. ‘Lift the catch and I’ll take a look.’
She leant into the car and he heard the pop as she released the catch. Feeling underneath he managed to find the button to get the bonnet up. He didn’t have a clue about cars except how to put oil and diesel in, but she seemed to know even less, so it wouldn’t matter. For the next five minutes he messed around, finally telling her to turn the engine on. He hoped that it wouldn’t work or she would be driving away to live another day. It didn’t. ‘Sorry, I can’t seem to find what’s wrong.’
‘Don’t worry. Thank you for trying. At least you bothered to stop. Do you know how many cars have just flown past and not given me a second glance?’
‘Look, it’s pretty dangerous to be standing here when it’s almost dark. Do you want a lift to the nearest garage where you can wait in safety for recovery and at least keep warm while you’re waiting?’
She didn’t even hesitate. ‘Yes please, that would be wonderful. My boyfriend can’t come for another hour. He can’t get out of work. Thank you.’
Henry opened the car door for her and she smiled as she got inside. He ran around to his, trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to take over his face. He got inside, and started the engine. Slipping his hand down the side of his seat he felt for the cold, steel blade of his knife. She began to chatter away about the car and how useless her boyfriend was, never there in an emergency. Starting the engine he nodded and laughed when he thought it was appropriate because he wasn’t really listening. He was trying to control the butterflies in his stomach. Reaching out, he turned the radio on to drown out any noise, then he turned and smiled at her. She looked at him properly for the first time and a shiver ran down her spine. Blindly feeling for the door handle, panic began to set in. She took her eyes away from him to find the handle and escape, but it was too late.
The van was a mess. She had bled a lot. He looked across at her face. Her eyes for ever open, staring at him. He pushed her body so her head was facing the other way. It was like having a life-sized doll sitting next to him. He realised that he needed to get moving. Her boyfriend might not be that useless and on his way, so he wiped his hands on his trouser legs and grabbed the steering wheel. The traffic was a steady flow and his indicator kept on ticking. He tried to slow his racing heart down. Finally a car slowed down and its headlights flashed to let him join the flow of traffic. He would drive as far as the next turn-off so he could double back and go to show Megan what he’d done without her help.
The roads were so dark around here, which was a blessing because driving around with a dead body next to you wasn’t a very wise thing to do. Especially when you were the most wanted man in England. He realised that he had taken some very stupid risks just to satisfy his needs. He had done what he had been making Megan put off for months. She would probably go mental with him, but then again he’d never really had an argument with her. It was more the case that she would say something that would annoy him and he’d give her the silent treatment for a few hours.
He felt sick. He’d never liked confrontation or arguing and this was going to make her freak. What if the camp site was crawling with uniformed officers? The whole town had been full of them. Megan might have decided to cut her losses and run. He could be driving to his downfall. The caravan might be full of coppers all waiting for him. A calmness spread over him. If that was how it was going to end, then so be it. He had managed to have a practice run. He knew, if it came to it, that he would cut his own throat rather than be locked away again without seeing or touching Annie one last time.
When he reached the turn-off to the park he was relieved to see it wasn’t swarming with police. He drove on down to the caravan and parked on the small gravel space next to it. The caravans around him were empty; winter wasn’t as popular in the Lake District. Making sure there was nobody around he got out and went up the steps. The door was unlocked and he walked in to see Megan sprawled on the sofa in the shortest of shorts and a skimpy vest. She took one look at him and sat up, the colour draining from her face. He had dark patches of blood all over his pale green sweatshirt.
‘Oh my God, what’s happened? Have you hurt yourself?’
He shook his head. ‘No, but I did hurt someone else. She’s out in the car.’