Free Nemesis by Louise Marley Page B

was also something in the way he stared impassively at the castle that made Natalie think it would be better for her if he did not know she was here.
    She took a step backwards, intending to disappear into the woods, but as her foot made contact with the ground a distinct crack disturbed the silence.
    The only twig in the vicinity and she’d trodden on it.
    Cliché or not, the man had now turned to look back through the chapel window.
    “Who’s there?” he said.
    She took another couple of steps back and made such a racket with her boots scuffing up the loose stones on the path that she gave up trying to be quiet and hit the woodland track running.
    “Hey, come back!” he called.
    Surely he wasn’t serious?
    Natalie sprinted through the yew grove and down the path towards the walled garden, slipping and sliding all the way. Her boots were low-heeled but not designed for woodland rambles. At this rate she’d break her own neck before he even got the opportunity. She could hear him close behind, cursing at the uneven ground. And that was another thing. If his intentions had been honourable, would he risk frightening her half to death by chasing after her?
    The gravel path tracked steeply towards the walled garden. In places, it had been shored into steps with sections of wood. In the dark these were a hindrance. More than once her foot caught against a piece of jutting timber, almost sending her flying.
    Once past the walled garden, the path levelled off and she was able to move more quickly. To her right she caught glimpses of white light, as the street lamps flickered on one by one. To see civilisation so close was reassuring, but she knew it was only familiarity with the path that had given her the advantage. As it grew narrower, unseen brambles caught at her clothes and the thin branches of the undergrowth whipped back against her skin.
    He was drawing closer. Soon he would be able to reach out and -
    Suddenly her feet were running across tarmac, past the old Lodge and through the stone arch of the castle gate. Her car was in front of her, parked skewed on the grass verge, exactly where she’d left it. She thrust her hand in her pocket for her keys. There was a brief moment of panic, when she failed to locate them, then their cold metal dug into her fingers and she dragged them out, squeezing hard on the fob until she heard the reassuring click of the central locking disengage.
    As her fingers closed over the door handle, she risked looking back - and saw him fall out through the undergrowth and onto the castle drive, much as she had done a moment earlier. He straightened, checking to see which direction she’d taken, and then saw her standing on the grass beside her car. As she watched, too terrified to move, she saw his expression change into one of shock. Then he said something, one word that she didn’t quite catch, and held out his hand.
    It was all the motivation she needed. She wrenched at the handle, and by that point it seemed like a miracle the door even opened. She almost fell into the car, pulling the door closed behind her and locking it.
    Her overwhelming relief vanished the moment his palm slammed against the side window.
    Horrified, she watched his hand slide down the glass before she heard the door handle rattle.
    What the hell was she still doing here? What if next time it wasn’t his fist, but a rock?
    Her hands were shaking so much she could hardly get the key in the ignition. The engine firing caused him to thump on the window again. Although it drowned out his voice, she could see his lips forming the word ‘please’.
    ‘Please’ what? ‘Please open the door’? As though that was going to happen!
    With more assurance she slid the car into gear, released the handbrake and put her foot on the accelerator. The tyres skidded briefly, got a grip, and then the car shot forward across the grass, causing him to jump out of the way. She barely had time to jerk the steering wheel around to avoid