Twist Of Fate

Fifty Nine

CHLOE

I can't bring myself to tell Harry about my history with Chris. I can't bear to imagine the look of disgust on his face, or worse: being pushed away and abandoned. Not that I would blame him - I have had many weeks to be honest with him, but I have chosen to keep the truth hidden this whole time. I have preached to him about trust and honesty, and berated him when he wouldn't tell me anything about himself, yet I have kept this from him. My own hypocrisy is unbearable.

The atmosphere in the car is subdued once we are going again. After my revelation to Harry I allowed him to comfort me for a short time, but then insisted we continue travelling. I feel exposed and vulnerable after opening my soul to him, and I need time to come to terms with him being the only one in the world other than me who knows the secret of my shortlived pregnancy. We stop once more to fill up the car, and only when we are past Chelmsford and heading towards Basildon, where even the back roads are becoming more and more built up, does Harry ask suddenly, "Chloe - where the fuck are we?"

I am surprised it has taken him this long to wonder. Taking a deep breath and praying he isn't going to hit the roof, I answer meekly, "We're just east of London - heading back to Broadstairs."

His eyes widen in horror and he whips his head around to stare at me in evident disbelief. "What the fuck are you talking about?! We can't go back there! The police will be all over us in minutes!"

"Hear me out," I begin, flattening the page of the atlas on my lap with the heel of my hand. "It's the last place the police will be looking, now they know we were in Dumfries -"

"We don't know for sure that they traced the call!" he exclaims, and a little fleck of spit flies from the corner of his mouth. "We can only assume! The truth is, we haven't a clue how much they know, or where they are looking for us right now!"

"We can be fairly confident," I argue, with a shake of my head. "And we've covered some decent ground in this car, with the real number plate and with the fake. If what you said about the owners of the car being gone for the day is correct, the likelihood is that they're only just realising it's missing. The police will have to trace it by number plate recognition to Newcastle Airport and it'll take them hours to realise that we didn't abandon it there. Until someone reports this number plate stolen and it's flagged on the Police National Computer, we're completely under the radar. I do think once we've got to Broadstairs we should ditch this car, though, and continue on foot or use public transport."

Harry rubs his face with his hand in despair. "Chloe... you've managed to come up with some brilliant plans along the way, girl. But I hate to say it... I think this one is fucking nuts. We're going to walk straight into a trap if we're not careful. You have too much of a link to the place. It's a dead giveaway."

I knew he would react this way, probably because deep down I know his concerns are valid. But as my nightmares have become more and more vivid and frightening I feel an overwhelming desire to be somewhere familiar; somewhere comforting. Since I have no one to rely on for support (other than Harry in these recent weeks), the only place I can gain any kind of solace or feel any sort of connection is the place I was brought up, and the place my parents are laid to rest.

"I understand your point," I reply, my voice pleading, "but it's not like we have anywhere else to go, is it? I never got a chance to visit my parents' grave again before we left. I never got a chance to say goodbye to them. And once we figure out what the hell we're going to do, we could both end up in prison."

The longer our escapade continues, the more I am coming to the realisation that there can be no happy ending to this. We have evaded capture for too long. Even putting Chris' death aside, our list is crimes is extensive. We have perverted the course of justice, stolen a car, stolen a number plate, used fake names and identities and survived on stolen cash for weeks. There is more than enough evidence to send us both to prison. I am trying not to think about this, as the idea of being taken into custody gives me heart palpitations, but it seems the logical conclusion. The police are not going to excuse our actions, particularly as a man is dead and the culprit is on the run. This could be the last chance I have for a long time to be close to my parents.