Richard took the phone. Whatever he was hearing, it wasn’t good news. He muttered a few words, then put the phone down.
“What is it?” Matt asked.
“Scarlett Adams… She’s leaving London.”
“What?” Matt couldn’t believe what he had just said. “Where’s she going?”
“We can still catch her.” Richard looked at his watch. “She’s going to Hong Kong. She’s booked on the three thirty flight…”
“Not back to Heathrow!” Jamie groaned.
“No.” Richard weighed up the options. He was finding it hard to concentrate. He needed a shave more than ever and his eyes were red with jet lag. “We can’t intercept her at Heathrow,” he said. “It’s too public. She’s never met us. She might not even want to talk to us. But her taxi isn’t collecting her until midday. We can reach her before she leaves.”
The decision had been made. The three of them dumped their luggage with the receptionist, turned round and walked out again. Fortunately, the driver was still waiting. Richard went up to him and told him where they wanted to go. The driver didn’t argue. Matt and Jamie got back in again.
They hadn’t even seen their rooms. The next moment they were off again, threading their way through Farringdon and down to Blackfriars Bridge. But it was now approaching the lunch hour and London had changed. Although they had made good progress from the airport, the traffic had snarled up. Every traffic light was red. It felt as if the entire city had turned against them.
“Who was it on the phone?” Matt asked.
“Susan Ashwood. She’s already in London.”
Miss Ashwood was a medium who also happened to be blind. Matt had first met her in Yorkshire and it had been she who had introduced him to the Nexus.
“How did she know?” Matt asked.
“The Nexus are still bugging Scarlett’s phone. They had two people following her too…”
It didn’t look as if they were going to make it. The whole of South London had become one long traffic jam. The car crossed Tower Bridge – giving Jamie a quick glimpse of the River Thames and St Paul’s – but after that, the city just felt drab and overcrowded with an endless stretch of cheap shops and restaurants punctuated by new office developments that would have looked out-of-date the moment they were built. Bermondsey, Walworth, Camberwell… they crawled from one district to the next without ever noticing where one ended and the next began and all the time they were aware of time ticking away. Half past eleven, twenty to twelve… they didn’t seem to be getting any nearer.
“This is hopeless,” Richard said. “Maybe we’d better go to Heathrow after all.”
The driver shook his head. “We’re nearly there,” he said.
They dropped down a steep hill – Dog Kennel Hill, it was called – and, looking out of the window, Matt began to feel something very strange. He had never visited this part of London… he was sure of it. And yet, at the same time, he knew where he was. He glimpsed a radio mast in the distance, a road sign pointing to King’s College Hospital. They meant something to him. He had been here before.
And then it hit him. Of course he knew this part of the city. He had lived here – from the time when he was a baby to when he had been about eight years old.
He should have remembered it. It hadn’t been that long ago. But perhaps he had blocked it out. It wouldn’t have been surprising after everything he had been through. Now it all came flooding back. The mast belonged to Crystal Palace. He had often played football there. He had gone into the hospital on his seventh birthday with suspected food poisoning. He remembered sitting miserably in reception – short trousers – with a plastic bowl balanced on his knees. They drove past a very ordinary house but Matt knew at once who lived there. It was a boy called Graham Fleming who had been his best friend at school. The two of them had always thought they would be inseparable. Matt wondered if he was still living there. What would he say if the two of them met now?
And there was something else he remembered. If he went past Graham’s house, turned the corner and walked past the old scout hut, he would come to a small, terraced house in a leafy street where all the houses were small and terraced. Number 32. It would have a green door and – unless they’d finally mended it – a cracked front step. It was his home. That was where he had once lived.
“How much further?” Richard asked.
The driver glanced at his sat nav. “We’re a minute away,” he said.
They went through a traffic light at a busy junction, then drove up towards North Dulwich station, turning into Half Moon Lane which was just opposite. Matt felt dazed. It was extraordinary to think that for half their lives, he and Scarlett had almost been neighbours. They might have passed each other a dozen times without even knowing it. She lived in Ardbeg Road, which was the next on the left, and just for a moment the way ahead was clear. The driver accelerated, glad finally to be able to use the Jaguar’s power.
“Look out!” Richard shouted out the warning too late.
A car shot out from a private drive and smashed right into them.
Matt saw everything. He heard the roar of an engine and that made him turn his head. The car was coming straight at them. The driver was staring at them, his hands clenched on the wheel, not even trying to avoid them. He was middle-aged, clean-shaven – and there was no emotion in his face. He should have been scared. He should have been showing some sort of reaction, knowing what was about to happen. But there was nothing at all.
Half a second later, there was a huge crash of metal against metal as he smashed into them.
The other car was a four-by-four, a BMW, and it was like being hit by a tank. The Jaguar was swept off the road, the world tilting away as it was hurled towards a wide, modern house with a short driveway sloping steeply down to the front door. There was a second collision as it hit the door, more crumpling metal. The house alarms went off. Jamie cried out as he was thrown sideways, his head hitting Matt’s shoulder. Matt tasted blood and realized that he had bitten his tongue. The Jaguar was lying at an angle, almost underneath the front wheels of the BMW which was still on the road above them. Both the windows on the driver’s side had shattered. The engine had cut out.
For a moment, nobody moved. Then Richard swore – which at least meant he was alive. He twisted round in the front seat. “Are you two all right?” he asked.
“What happened?” Jamie groaned.
“An accident…” Richard said. “Idiot… wasn’t looking where he was going.”
He was wrong. Matt knew that already. He had seen what had happened. The BMW driver had been waiting for them, knowing they would come this way. Why else would he have shot out like that, slamming straight into them? Matt had seen him, gripping the wheel. He had known exactly what he was doing.
Richard was already out of the car.
“Wait…” Matt said.
But Richard hadn’t heard. He staggered up onto the road, only now becoming aware that he was in pain. There were no cuts or bruises but, like all of them, he had suffered from whiplash. “What the hell do you think you were doing?” he demanded.
The driver of the BMW had got out and was standing in the road. He was a middle-aged man, well-built, wearing a long, black coat and leather gloves. His mouth was soft and flabby, with small teeth, like a child. His skin was very pink. He had curly hair. His head was almost perfectly round, like a football.
“I’m so terribly sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see you. I was in a hurry. I hope none of you are hurt.”
Richard was still angry but he suddenly knew something was wrong. “You did it on purpose,” he said. His voice had faltered. “You tried to kill us.”
“Not at all. I just pulled out without looking. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. Thank goodness you don’t seem to be seriously hurt.”
By now, Matt and Jamie had joined him. There was nothing they could do for their driver and they left him, unconscious in the front seat. Jamie stared at the man and the colour drained out of his face. He knew at once what he was looking at. It was the last thing he had expected to find here.
“Matt…” he whispered. “He’s a shape-changer.”
Matt didn’t doubt him. Jamie had met shape-changers when he had gone back in time. Shape-changers were able to take on human form but it didn’t suit them. It didn’t quite fit. One of them, an old man who had suddenly become a giant scorpion, had almost killed him at the fortress at Scathack Hill. He knew what he was talking about.
