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It took her several minutes to edge her car out of the crowd of others parked along the lane. She had only drunk a couple of glasses of wine, but the incident with Connel and then the clash with her sister had made her agitated and prone to clumsiness. She inched back and forth a number of times before finally getting out of the space.
She was ten minutes from her home when she heard a loud bang and felt a sharp drag on the steering wheel. Startled, she slowed her speed, but the car was out of control, sliding sideways across the road, making a strange slapping noise which she suddenly recognised as a burst tyre. She must have run over something sharp, a nail or broken glass.
Braking hard, she fought to regain control, but was unable to stop the car heading down into the ditch on the far side of the road.
Luckily, there was a grassy bank on the other side of the ditch, rather than a wall. Her car bonnet crashed into it, the metal crumpling like paper. She was flung violently forwards into the airbag, which had exploded out into the car from behind her wheel.
Thank heavens for airbags, thought Zoe, before passing out.
CHAPTER FOUR
'Zoe? Zoe. Wake up. Can you hear me?' The voice was familiar and she stirred, wincing at the pain her movement caused.
Someone close beside her sighed with relief. 'Thank God for that I thought you might be out of it.'
'Go away,' she said without opening her eyes, feeling the pillow underneath her face giving, almost billowing around her. Who was that? What was he doing in her bedroom? At some level of her mind she knew, but she couldn't put a name to the voice even though she recognised it. 'I'm very sleepy. Leave me alone.'
'Stay awake. You've got to get out of there; I can smell petrol,' the voice ordered, and she prickled with resentment over the note of authority. Who did he think he was?
'Shut up,' she groaned.
His voice became urgent. 'Don't go back to sleep— Zoe, listen to me—the doors are jammed; I can't get you out unless you wake up. Can you reach your seat belt and undo it? The windscreen has gone. I'll get you out through there easily enough once you've taken off your seat belt.'
'Seat belt?' she said, dazedly. What did he mean, seat belt? Wasn't she in bed? With the utmost reluctance she forced her eyes open and realised that the pillow her head was nestling against was actually an inflated white airbag. She sat up, grunting in pain as her ribs and neck hurt.
'What happened?' she asked, absorbing the sight of broken shards of glass littering the car bonnet and the seats around her, the angle at which the car was buried in the ditch, the crumpled bonnet from which a grey smoke filtered. For some reason there were bright lights illuminating the scene, although this was a dark country road 'I crashed. I crashed the car!' she thought aloud.
'Never mind that Stop chatting. Get out of there now, Zoe!'
Panic set in and she scrabbled at her seat belt It won't open, it won't…'
'Keep calm. Stop for a second, take a deep breath…don't panic, Zoe.'
'I'm not panicking!' But she knew she was, so she obeyed him, breathing deeply, trying to clear her head before she had another go at the seat belt.
This time it clicked and she was free.
'Out you come!' the man leaning in through the gaping frame of the windscreen said, his hands held out to her.
She looked up into his face, groaning. 'You!' But hadn't she recognised Connel Hillier's deep, male voice all along? She simply hadn't wanted to think about him.
His mouth twisted. 'Who did you think it was? Come on, there's no time to waste. You have to get out of there.'
She took his hands, flinching at the pain his grip caused her. She must have cuts all over her own hands, she realised, and no doubt there were hits of glass in the cuts. Her ribs hurt too. In fact, she was bruised from head to foot.
He pulled her up towards him. She gave a cry of pain as she emerged from the windscreen. A second later she was over his shoulder, her head hanging dizzily down the other side, and he was carrying her away from the smoking car towards the bright lights she had noticed a moment ago, and which turned out to be the headlights of Connel's car.
He slid her into the front passenger seat and rapidly belted her in, closed the door on her and ran round the other side. Zoe was too disorientated to resent the way he was manhandling and ordering her around. Dazedly she stared in horror at her smashed car. My God, she'd been lucky to get out of that alive. It was a write-off! Well, her insurance would pay for a new car, but that would mean that her insurance costs were going to soar next year. It was maddening because she had never had an accident before, and had been getting excellent no-claim bonuses for years.
Connel climbed in next to her hurriedly and without a word started the engine and drove off at speed round
a bend in the road where he slowed and stopped in a lay-by.
Zoe looked suspiciously at him. 'What do you think you're doing?'
He ignored her, staring into his wing mirror.
'Why have you stopped?' she began, just as there was a violent explosion and the road behind them was lit up by flames.
