I started this story on a whim. It’s gritty and urban and not to be read immediately after a meal . This is part four and Paige is in trouble…

Stupid stupid, she told herself and kept running, not daring to look back. Part of her brain told her not to go back to the arch. She ran past the turning and into the lights from the station that pooled like a stadium, hiding nothing. She was sure she could hear fast feet behind her and turned up the ramp to the platforms. Nothing moved. Trains would start again until five thirty.

Halfway up she stopped and looked back, her vantage point governing her a full three sixty view of the High Street. She breathed out, her chest heaving. Nothing. She was…

Her blood chilled as the dark bulk of the man from the passage jogged into the light. Paige pulled back and watched as the man moved across the ramp and looked up to where she stood. She knew it too well, though and knew he’d not see her unless he followed her up the slope. But she could see him, brightly back lit. He had the bulk of the serial pumper of iron. Probably five six or seven but easily two hundred and forty pounds, his jacket strained against biceps. Despite the poundage he didn’t seem out of breath. He looked left and right and then started jogging again, heading on the way Paige had been heading.

Paige counted to twenty and retraced her steps. The street was silent. In the distance an emergency vehicle shrieked plaintively on its way to some incident, possibly offering help. No one was going to help Paige. Careful now to keep close to the shadows again she moved stealthily to the alleyway that gave into the arches. Checking round every corner she took a good ten minutes waiting before crossing the road and heading to their home from home. Any moment…

She halted as if stopped by a hand on her chest. A black SUV was parked just down the side street. It hadn’t been there earlier, so who would be parking here, in something flash like that at four in the morning? The concrete block that held the sheet in place had been pushed away, thought the sheet was back where it should be. Paige eased forward, catching a whispered voice.

What was going on? Maybe she should back away and…

A noise, something between a choke and a sob brought her up short. Mia. Mia in distress but not able, or daring to cry out. Paige felt her anger begin the overcome her fear. She put down the bag and thought. There had been two men in the passage. One she knew had disappeared towards the centre so this was probably the other. And he’d spoken to Flat Larry, the man in the door who she’d stamped on. Larry knew who she was, knew where they lived. He’d have told the man where to find her.

One man. She could take one man.

Clicking her neck and rolling her shoulders, she pushed the laundry behind the wall and yanked the sheet open.