Warhol's Prophecy

tremendous crash shake the entire vehicle. He realized that the lorry had clipped his offside rear wing.

But he was through!

Again the Audi skidded on the wet road. He desperately fought to regain control, turning into the skid, and aware that there was now a thick hedge running alongside the road.

Aware that he was spinning straight towards it.

The pursuing car rammed him with incredible force.

As the Audi left the road, Rob gripped the steering wheel with one hand. The other he raised to protect his face.

As if fired from a catapult, the Audi hurtled off the tarmac and exploded through the hedge, carving its way effortlessly through the bracken and overgrown hawthorn.

Rob grunted as he felt a thud, his sternum connected hard with the steering column, and his seat-belt jerked him back, fresh pain shooting across his shoulders.

But the car had stopped.

‘Shit,’ he hissed, unbuckling his seat-belt.

He sat behind the wheel, heart hammering against his ribs, his breath coming in gasps.

Apart from his shoulders and his chest, there was no pain.

Even the Audi’s engine was still running.

He thought about switching it off, then turned in his seat to look back towards the road – through the gaping rent that the Audi had carved in the hedge.

The road seemed deserted.

The lorry was gone; so was the other car.

The only light came from flashes of lightning.

Rob stuck the Audi in reverse and manoeuvred back onto the roadside, but he remained inside the car, looking anxiously up and down the thoroughfare. As if expecting the mystery car to return at any minute.

The road remained empty.

Rob leant forward, resting his head on the wheel, his eyes closed tightly.

‘Jesus,’ he whispered breathlessly.

He had to get home.

Had to tell Hailey about the fucking maniac who’d tried to kill him.

Had to phone the police. Tell them someone had tried to murder him.

He tried his mobile once. NO SIGNAL.

Rob stuck the Audi in DRIVE and pulled away, gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The storm continued to rage.

75

HAILEY THOUGHT HOW pale he looked.

Rob sat right on the edge of the chair, a tumbler of brandy cradled in his hands. Hair, plastered by the rain, sticking to his forehead.

Every now and then he would take a sip of the Courvoisier, gazing down into its depths as if seeking answers there.

Hailey perched on the arm of the chair beside him, gently massaging his shoulders.

He had blundered into the house less than fifteen minutes ago, eyes bulging, face set in hard lines. She had been thoroughly frightened by his appearance, especially when he brushed past her into the sitting room without speaking. His clothes were soaked with rain and perspiration. His skin was cold and waxy.

When he had finally managed to force out words, they were ones like ‘police’ and ‘murder’ and ‘maniac’. What he was saying made no sense. His sentences were garbled, like a message breaking up over radio waves.

Outside, the storm continued to rock the night, and not for the first time Hailey glanced upwards. The thunder had already woken Becky once that night, and it had taken a while to get her back to sleep. But at the moment Hailey’s main concern was for her husband, who just sat gazing blankly ahead. It was as if he was seeing something beyond the walls of the house. Something that she could not see herself.

‘He tried to kill me,’ Rob said finally, still staring ahead.

‘Who?’ Hailey wanted to know.

‘The fucking nutter who tried to run me off the road.’ He swallowed more brandy.

‘Did you get a look at him?’ she asked.

Rob shook his head.

‘What about the make of his car?’ Hailey enquired.

‘It was too dark, what with the rain and everything . . .’ He allowed the sentence to trail off.

‘Why would someone want to kill you, Rob?’

‘How the fuck would I know?’ he snapped, downing what was left in his glass and getting to his feet, swaying unsteadily.

Hailey took the glass from him and refilled it before handing it back to him.

‘All I know is that’s what happened,’ Rob said, slumping back down in his seat. ‘Some fucking maniac came out of nowhere and tried to run me off the road.’

‘It could have been a drunk driver you annoyed. Or some delinquent kids in a stolen car.’

‘Could have been.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Jesus, Hailey, you should have seen it happen. I thought I was going to die.’

She put both arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

‘I’ve got to call the police,’ he said, moving away slightly.

‘What’s the point?’

‘Are you serious? There’s some fucking lunatic out there on the road, pissed or drugged up, or both. He might decide to have a go at someone else, and they might not be as lucky as me.’

‘But, Rob, what can you tell them? You didn’t see the driver, so you can’t give them a description. You didn’t even see the car.’

He swallowed more brandy and got to his feet.

‘I’ve got to tell them,’ he insisted.

Hailey stood too, blocking his way to the phone.

‘No,’ she said flatly.

‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ he demanded.

‘Don’t call the police.’

His brow furrowed. ‘Why not?’ he wanted to know. ‘What am I supposed to do?’

‘I can handle it, Rob.’

‘You can handle it?’

‘I know who tried to kill you – and why.’

76

‘HIS NAME IS Adam Walker,’ Hailey said quietly.

Rob didn’t speak, merely looked at her aghast.

‘You remember, when Becky got lost over in the shopping centre that afternoon, I told you a man had found her and brought her back. It’s him.’

‘You’re not making any sense, Hailey. He saves my daughter, then tries to kill me? Why?’

‘It’s because of me. What happened tonight and what happened with your car. The slashed tyres, the dog shit pushed through the door: that was Walker too.’

Why not mention the break-in while you’re at it?

Rob waved a hand in the air.

‘What has he got against you?’ he wanted to know.

She lowered her gaze.