28 Clover Lane

Chapter 6

I turn, my heart racing twice its normal speed, and take a deep breath. I have to be sure. I could be imagining it - maybe I didn't lock the door at all, maybe I forgot in the midst of my worry. But deep down, I know I locked that door. I know it for a fact.

The living room door is open by a small gap. I know it doesn't squeak like mum's does, so I gently edge it forward, just leaving enough room to fit my head through. I carefully place my head into the gap, slowly, quietly, and peer into the dimness of the living room. I see the sofas, the TV in the corner, the fireplace - wait. Someone's there, by the fireplace. They're stood in front of it, their back to me. A chill runs down my spine; I can tell by his size that he's a man. Dressed all in black, and looking at a photo that we keep on the mantelpiece of me and mum. He hasn't seen me. I pull myself out of the door and close it as it was before. I feel like I can't breathe. Now what?

As I turn to get away from the living room door, my foot catches something - the leg of the phone stand, and I'm tripping up, I can't stop myself. I put my hands out in front of me but I land on the floor with a thud. I hear the man turn in the living room, hear him place the photo back on the mantelpiece. I have to run, NOW. I scramble to my feet, charge up the stairs to the safety of my bedroom, slam the door behind me and drag my desk in front of the door, lodging it under the handle to stop it from moving. I can hear his footsteps on the stairs, and soon after the doors are being opened across the landing, urgently searching for me. He reaches my door but the heavy desk stops him from pushing it open. I hold my breath, sobbing, wrapping my arms around my knees. I'm rocking back and forth, begging him silently to leave me alone. Tears drip down my face and my chest burns from the speed of my heartbeat. After a minute, the door handle stops rattling and the house is silent again.

My mind is in a whirl. What do I do? I'm alone in the house, with this man who could be carrying a knife for all I know. I suddenly feel a surge of anger towards mum. If she was still here, I'd be safe. Or at least I'd feel safer than I do now. I have a flash of realisation and grab my mobile from my bedside table.

Nathan.

It's the middle of the night, but there's a chance he left his phone on. Just hearing his voice would make me feel safer. I find his name in my contacts list and hold it to my ear, praying. The voicemail cuts in and the woman's voice: "The person you are calling is currently unavailable." I groan inwardly. His phone's off. Of course it is. She continues, "Please leave a message after the tone." And then the beep. I realise this might be my only choice, so I talk quietly so as not to let the man hear me.

"Nathan, please Nathan, if you get this, I need help," I whisper through the tears. "There's a man outside my bedroom and I don't know how long it'll take him to figure out a way in. Please Nath, I'm so scared. Just get help and I'll... I'll phone the police. Just come quickly, please."

More tears roll down my cheeks as I hang up. I have to phone the police. I grip the phone tightly to stop my hands shaking and dial 999. A woman picks up almost immediately.

"Hello, what service do you require?"

"Police. Police please, tell them to come quickly," I sob.

"What's your emergency?"

"A man, he's outside my room, he - he broke into my house and I don't know what he wants. Please, I'm really scared."

"Okay, try to keep calm. What's your address?"

"T-twenty eight Clover Lane, Abbeydale," I stumble.

"Okay, the police are being dispatched right now. Just try to stay calm, and stay in your bedroom. This man can't get to you, can he?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Good. Sit tight and the police will be with you in five minutes."

I hope so.