Lupo

Chapter Nine: The Great Escape

"What do you want for dinner?" he asked, leaning on the open door and surveying her with a bright, steely gaze. "You hardly ate anything at breakfast. You must be hungry."

"I'm fine!" Darcie snapped, folding her arms across her chest and pointedly avoiding his gaze. "Just fine."

Bash's face clouded and his jaw clenched. With a slight nod, he pushed the door shut with rather more force than was necessary, before turning on his heel and stalking away towards the delicatessen. Darcie examined his back rather guiltily as he retreated, noting that, in spite of how irritating he was, he wore his shirt very well.

She waited until he'd disappeared through the door, hailing whoever it was behind the till, before turning back to study the flower-shop again, muttering under her breath.

Fuck. This.

In his absence, the little street seemed strangely quiet.

Darcie turned in her seat and craned her neck to peer out of the back window at the deserted road, before turning back to the fancy florist's with a frown. She couldn't imagine how the place made any money, in such a quiet, empty little village.

Oh...

She froze, suddenly struck with renewed inspiration. With a quiet rumble, an ancient looking, bottle-green bus had turned onto the street ahead. It trundled, almost lazily, down the road towards her before it slowed to a crawl and came to a stop by the bench opposite. A worn sign above the window on the driver's side, declared that it was headed to 'Crawley (Hosp) via Godstone'.

Darcie hadn't a clue where 'Crawely' or 'Godstone' were, but she reckoned that a hospital was as good a place as any to go to for help.

 Crawley it is.

She glanced casually round at the deli again, attempting to spot Bash through the window. After a few moments of squinting, she picked out the back of his head between a cold counter and a rather precarious display of preserves. He was facing away from her and seemed to be engaged with someone Darcie couldn't see, totally engrossed in conversation.

Now would be the time to run.    

Keeping her eyes fixed upon him, Darcie very slowly unbuckled herself and leaned back, reaching behind her to feel along the backseat. After a moment or two, her fingers closed around the familiar bulk of her clutch bag and she drew it forwards with a nervous smile of triumph. The shoes and club clothes she would have to leave. She hadn't any time to waste.  

Tucking the bag beneath her arm, she fumbled along the passenger-side door for it's handle. Her gaze never once wavered from the back of Bash's head. She watched him pick something up and laugh with his companion as she gingerly opened the door and slid out of her seat, her heart hammering nineteen to the dozen. She saw him deposit whatever it was in his basket as her feet found the uneven surface of the cobbled road, and she pushed the door shut again, hardly daring to breathe. 

Run!

With one last, lingering glance towards him, Darcie turned to face the florist's again. The doors of the bus now stood open, and a pair of teenage boys were helping an old women off onto the pavement.  

It's now or never.

Half expecting someone to call after her, and with the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, Darcie started off. She'd barely taken two steps before she noticed that there was now another person in the road besides her, and she stopped again, jolting in surprise and alarm.