The Overlooker by Fay Sampson Page B

sudden impulse he slammed the car into gear again and shot after it.
    He raced along the avenue of cars, praying he would not be too late to see where the blue car went. He dodged around cars already starting to back out.
    â€˜Nick!’ Suzie exclaimed. ‘What’s the hurry?’
    â€˜If he’s going to crash the car, I suppose a hospital car park is the best place to do it.’ Millie commented from behind them.
    â€˜I want to see where he goes. Who he is,’ Nick muttered through gritted teeth.
    When they reached the main road, the blue car was already heading down the hill.
    Nick turned that way, ignoring the blasts of horns as he shot into the fast-moving traffic.
    â€˜Nick! You cannot be serious! Just because it’s the same make of car as the one at Belldale. It’ll be some perfectly innocent citizen on his way home.’
    â€˜Would somebody mind telling me what this is all about?’ came a voice from the back seat.
    Suzie turned round. ‘Your father’s got some mad idea that somebody’s been following us.’
    â€˜Great! Like we’re some sort of celebrity? Can we expect the paparazzi outside Thelma’s house next?’
    Nick swallowed down the guilt that told him he should have explained the situation to Millie. How long could he protect her from the frightening facts?
    Nevertheless, he swept past the entrance to the shopping mall in the centre of the town, and the signs pointing to car parks. Some way in front of him he could still see the small blue car heading into the housing estates on the opposite side.
    Suzie was tense beside him. He suspected she disapproved of what he was doing. A saner part of himself told him she was probably right. But she was not going to argue in front of Millie.
    And Nick was not going to lose this chance of following his pursuer to his base and finding his identity.
    Did the driver know that he was the one now being followed?
    The car disappeared round the corner of a road in a modern estate. Nick slowed. Was it a ruse? Would the driver lurk there until he had driven past, and then slip out to follow him again?
    Cautiously he paused at the turning. There was no blue car in sight.
    It was Millie who leaned forward and pointed. ‘Up there, Dad. At the top of the drive, third house on the right.’

TEN
    N ick eased the car around the corner and stopped.
    â€˜Stay here,’ he ordered.
    â€˜Nick! What do you think you’re going to do?’ Suzie exclaimed. ‘Just because some perfectly ordinary guy happens to drive a blue Honda, you can’t go storming up his garden path and bawl him out.’
    â€˜I’ve had enough.’ Nick’s face felt stiff, though his limbs were unaccountably trembling. He felt fury that someone had cast him in the role of victim. He wanted to be in charge of events.
    He strode up the sloping drive. There was a child’s scooter propped against the wall beside the open garage. The offending car was parked outside.
    Nick pressed hard on the doorbell.
    The door opened more abruptly than he had expected. A thin, sharp-boned woman stood in front of him. A pink cardigan hung loosely from her shoulders. Her face looked angry.
    â€˜It’s his day off,’ she snapped. ‘Can’t he have a single afternoon with his family? First he gets called out to the hospital, only it seems the woman’s not at death’s door after all. Then some nutter from the university comes barging round again. Now you . . .’ Her tone changed. ‘Unless someone really has died?’
    An expression of consternation was beginning to replace her indignation. Her face was colouring. She wrapped her cardigan round her thin body. ‘I’m sorry. It’s awful to talk like that. But you’ve no idea what it’s like being a Baptist minister. People just
use
him. All the time. Sucking the energy out of him. Like he doesn’t need a private life like ordinary