As I slow for the impending traffic lights, watching them turn from Amber to Red, I notice the plonker behind me is still heading my way. Crap! I study my mirrors as intently as I can to see the driver but with their lights on the rear windscreen, it’s a physical impossibility. Tit!
I choose to ignore the idiot behind me and take a chill pill, they’d probably be turning off soon and I’m nearly home. Soon, I’ll be with my gorgeous man. Unfortunately the other driver has alternative ideas. I’m presuming it’s a male. The way they are driving is certainly boy racer in its style and most women didn’t tend to drive up other driver’s arses, but I suppose it was a sweeping comment. As we pick up pace and drop down the hill, the nose of the dark saloon behind me nips angrily at my bumper. What was this guy on? Obviously got a small penis I joke to myself, but actually I’m beginning to worry.
I press my foot firmly on the accelerator and ease into fifth gear. I’ve two options, nail it and hopefully my speed will shake him off or pull over. But why should I give him the satisfaction - we all want to get home after a hard day at work and I just want to get home to my man.
I’m practically nudged over the roundabout, along Main Street and as I hang a sharp right past the Grammar School and towards the bridge, a wave of unease begins to settle over me, causing me to straighten my back and grip the steering wheel tighter. This guy wasn’t going anywhere. The one question that I feel I need to ask myself is at forefront of my mind - there’s no escaping it as I press the button on the stereo to mute the sound.
Am I being followed?
The mirror reflects the same car, speeding up in my direction, as I’m about to head over the bridge, which is one way. Usually you have to stop and wait for oncoming traffic but not a chance tonight; the coast is clear and I’m gunning it. I don’t give a shit. I just wish I’d never come this way now.
I’m halfway over the bridge and to my relief, it looks like I was overreacting, and my shoulders droop a tad. The driver behind me has gone. Vanished. How odd? My nerves are frazzled - must be the pregnancy hormones on high anxiety alert. As I head up the last hill, I begin to relax again and crick my neck, to ease the tension there. I’m just nearing the top when the mirror reflects my worst fears and I swallow deeply. It’s him - he’s back. Oh shit. Shit! The blinding lights, flying up the hill at breakneck speed are on a rocket-launch mission to catch up to me, I know it. WTF?
A quick glance in my rearview mirror has me guessing again? This guy was like a ghost but something flickers in my right peripheral vision and a feeling of dread washes over me. What was this idiot doing? He’s trying to overtake me as we come up to the bend and is now parallel to my car, matching my speed,. We are in pure alignment. I look to my right to try and see who is behind the wheel but the windows are tinted making it impossible; invisible but as I flick my eyes back towards the road ahead, I see the oncoming car, heading straight for me. If I don’t move, we meet head-on. Oh fuck. My mouth is dry and I can’t think, we’re going so fast, I can’t seem to stop. The idiot continues to shove me into the path of the third party who is now braking, and careening sideways towards me. If this imbecile doesn’t shift over soon, or move, I’ll hit a wall….
I hear the crunch reverberate around me first, the horrific crack of glass and scrape of metal. The force of the impact is nothing like I could have imagined, occurring as though I am in slow motion; things sliding through the air within my car, me being flung around within my seat, my belt tugging hard across my belly, before I’m shoved hard into the steering wheel as the airbag is activated, its the force knocking the wind from me - the lack of control is horrifying, the enormity of what is about to happen, as the car hits the wall, the fear of the potential damage. I never got to speak to Sebastian, to tell him about the baby. That is my last thought before everything goes black.
Where is she?
It’s been well over half an hour since we spoke. I would have thought she’d have been here by now. I turn the oven off and spin as I hear the front door slam, heading into the hallway. “Ah I wondered if you’d changed your mind?”
It isn’t Lu though.
“Nope - still got fish and chips.” Chris looks back at me with an odd expression, placing his car keys on the table. “You Ok, mate?”
“Yeah, yeah I just thought you were Lucia.”
“She still not here - traffic was pretty bad though. Maybe she stopped off at home first?”
That’s a good point. “Maybe. I’ll give her a ring now.”