Is Anybody There?: Seeing is believing. Jean Ure

sick! I think I’d better ring her, and—”

      “Yes,” he said, “do that.”

      I scrabbled frantically in my bag, for my mobile. Where was it? Where was my mobile? It wasn’t there! My mobile wasn’t there! I must have left it in the restaurant. In my rush to get away, and catch a bus, and save a few measly pounds, I’d gone and left my mobile in the Pizza Palace. I’d put my entire life in jeopardy for a pair of stupid boots!

      Paul said, “What’s the matter?”

      “My phone,” I said. “I’ve left it behind. I’ve got to ring Mum, I’ll have to go back!”

      “There might be one in the glove compartment,” he said. He leaned across me to open it and, oh God, I thought my last hour had come! There was a screwdriver in there … one of those really long ones.

      I saw his hand close over it, and I immediately lunged sideways in my seat, which threw him off balance so that he jerked at the wheel and the car did this great kangaroo leap. I screamed, and he said, “Sorry! Sorry!” and pulled us back again. “Phew! That was a close shave. Sorry about that. You OK?” He glanced at me as he shut the glove compartment. “It doesn’t look as if I’ve got my phone with me, I’m afraid. But don’t worry!” He smiled. “We’ll be back in no time. At least coming this way the roads are clear.”

      I didn’t want them to be clear! I wanted them full of traffic, and hold-ups.I had to get out of that car.

      “You must admit,” he said, “it’s one of the advantages. And just look at the countryside!” He gestured out of the window, at the dark shapes of pine trees, and the woods looming behind. “I love it out here. You can drive for hours without seeing anyone. It’s hard to believe the town’s just a couple of miles away.”

      I knew why he was starting to talk: it was to make me think that everything was normal. But everything wasn’t normal!

      In a small, tight voice, I said, “I really do need to ring my mum. If I don’t ring her she’ll wonder where I am. She’ll get really worried if she doesn’t hear from me. She’ll do something stupid, like call the police. I really do think I ought to go back and get my phone!”

      “And I really think,” he said, firmly, “that it would be better to get you home first and set your mum’s mind at rest. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

      “But I want my phone!” I could hear my voice coming out in this panic-stricken wail. “I need it!”

      “You can always call the restaurant when you get in. I’m sure they’ll keep it for you. I’ll even drive back into town and pick it up for you, if you like. But let’s just get you home first. We don’t want your mum being worried.”

      “Please!” I said. I was begging him, now. “I need to go back! I want my phone!”

      “Joanne,” he said, “mobile phones are not that important. Your mum’s peace of mind is at stake here. But OK. OK! If that’s what you want, I’ll take you back.”

      I wanted to believe him. I did so want to believe him! But I knew he was only saying it to keep me quiet. If he had really been going to take me back, he would have slowed the car and turned round. Instead, he continued straight on, barrelling down the hill towards the gravel pits. It was the most terrifying moment of my whole life. You just can’t believe, until you find yourself in it, that you could ever get yourself in such a situation. This was something that happened to other people! It couldn’t be happening to me!

      The thing that saved me was the traffic lights. The lights at the intersection with the main Benbridge Road. They were on red, and he was forced to stop. I was out of that car so fast I almost fell over. Coming towards us, up the hill, heading back into town, was a bus. I regained my balance and hared across the road towards it. I got to the stop just in time … another second and I would have been too late.