White - The darkness around her: Dan Grant Trilogy, Book 2

Lizzie marched along the unlit towpath. She was angry, hurt. She wiped tears from her eyes and the warm blood that streamed from her swollen nose smeared across her hand and coated her lip.

The town was quieter now; the New Year fireworks had finished and people were starting to queue for taxis home. Not Lizzie though. Shed bolted for the darkness, just to get away, too ashamed to head into the bright lights. The canal, brought in on an aqueduct, curved high above the town, clinging to the steep side of one of the many hills that surrounded Highford, before it disappeared into the valley on the other side and made its way across the Pennines.

The glow of the town-centre streetlights didnt make it this far. The water was black and still, catching only the gleam of the moon. Canal barges were moored in the distance. The smell of their wood smoke in the air told her they were occupied, and another one cruised towards her, its headlight just like a torch beam, but too far away to illuminate her path.

She was alone in the dark.

Then she heard a noise.

She stopped, looked back, strained to hear it again, needing the reassurance that it was just rubbish, like the rustle of a plastic bag blown against a fence. It was more than that though, more like the crunch of footsteps on gravel. She peered into the darkness, a tingle of fear making her senses keen. Only shadows and silence greeted her.

Lizzie turned around, panic rising, looking for a way off the towpath, but she knew it was pointless. High fences that protected the scrapyard and small workshops that lined the canal kept her from a quick exit, razor wire in rolls across the top. She couldnt go back, she knew that. Hed be waiting for her. She was there because of him.

She quickened her step. Her heels rang loudly on the cobbles, the sound skimming across the water and echoing from the wall on the other side. Dread tightened her chest, made her breath come faster.

All she had to do was keep going. There was a low bridge ahead that would take her to an estate on the other side, built on a hill that rose steeply. She could aim for that and find a way home.

She cursed him. It had been just another stupid argument.

Hed started it, as always, too much booze fuelling his jealousy, the beast that was always lurking. Hed accused her of looking at someone else. The idiot just didnt get it. He was pushing her to leave, with his snide remarks, the put-downs, saying how shed let herself go, but then accused her of tarting herself up for other men whenever she made an effort. Didnt he get the irony?

She went to wipe more tears from her cheek but stopped herself. Let them fall.

It had been good once. Beautiful Liam. Kind Liam. The flowers. The messages. The lies.

Thered been punches before tonight, digs into her back that made her cough in pain, leaving bruises only he saw. Thered been the late-night beatings, of course, blurred by alcohol, where shed called the police but had backed down by the time they arrived, somehow persuaded that hed change, that the good times made up for the bad.

This time had been different, because it had been in public, outside the pub, people seeing her go down, the stars blurring into white streaks as she went backwards, ending with a thump on the ground of the car park. Another night out ending in pain.

No more. Shed had enough. This time she wasnt going back.

All she could think of was to get away, to keep running. Customers from the pub had blocked his way as she pushed herself up from the ground, but that wouldnt last. No one could take him on; he was too big, too angry, his shoulders hunched, his body tensed, fists clenched, his shouts loud. Shed fled to the sanctuary of the towpath, hoping he wouldnt see where shed gone.

There was a dark shape ahead, making her slow down, but it resolved into a bench as she got closer. Thered been no more noises. It had been her imagination.

She stopped to sit down. She needed to calm herself and work out what to do. She couldnt go back to his place, but she had clothes there, and jewellery. He had photographs of her, intimate ones. Hed use them against her.

That shouldnt matter. Leaving didnt have to be harder than staying. Get her stuff. Go. Stay out of town.

The streets on the other side of the low bridge werent far away, lining the higher slope on the other side, the town centre just a swirl of orange lights below. The streets meant safety, but she needed to steady her nerves, to work out her next move. It got dark ahead before it got brighter and there was something about the shadows ahead that made her nervous.

She took a cigarette from her packet, and was about to light it, when there was another noise. A bottle kicked over, rolling along the towpath.

He was following her. Hed seen where shed gone, would know that she either had to keep going into the darkness or turn back towards him. Hed said too many times that hed never let her leave him. He was waiting for her in the solid blackness of the towpath, she knew it.

She put her cigarette away, left the bench, increasing her pace as she went, not caring now that the click of her heels echoed like loud cracks along the path. She looked over her shoulder as she ran, straining to see who was there.

The bridge was getting closer. Shadows underneath.

She looked back again. There was movement on the towpath behind her, a dark mass flitting across.

The bridge was just twenty metres away. She was almost at the steps.

She took off her shoes, holding them in her hands like weapons, the heels long and pointed. Leave me alone, she shouted, just to attract attention, her eyes going to the windows of the houses opposite, trying to make someone open a curtain or turn on a security light.

There was no response.

The steps were just there. The sharp stones between the cobbles made her wince, slowed her down, but once on the bridge she could run, make it to the tarmac on the other side. To the streetlights. To where people would see her.

Someone stepped in front of her. She let out a scream, but he rushed her, one hand going to her throat, choking it quiet, his other hand pulling her back by the hair.

She gasped and searched for air, but there was none to be had. She flailed her arms, heard him cry out as a heel dug into his head, and for a moment she thought she was able to fight him off, but she was thrown off-balance.

He pushed her towards the water. Her arms thrashed at him, but she dropped the shoes. Her bag fell off her shoulder and became tangled round her legs. Her feet couldnt get a grip as she tried to push back, the stones tearing at the soles of her feet. He was too strong.

He kept on pushing her until one of her feet was in the air, the ground no longer there, and then she started to fall backwards.

The splash of the freezing water made her gasp in shock, but it was drowned out as the dirty water filled her mouth. She spluttered, fought to keep her head above the water. Her feet scrambled for something to push against, but the canal was too deep.

She floundered up, her head above the surface, and coughed out the water, dirty and acrid, her hair plastered across her face. She snatched a gulp of air before he pushed her down again, holding her this time, pulling her body against the wall of the canal and her head under the surface