Doctor Who_ Rip Tide - Louise Cooper [24]
Though, of course, she had only seen the situation from the outside.
A light had come on in an upstairs room now, suggesting that the cottage's occupant was probably changing into dry clothes. A quick foray would only take a few seconds. Just look through the window, then away. Nina slid behind the hawthorn again, then squeezed — painfully; this hawthorn was particularly prickly — through the gap between it and a shrubby and equally wet escallonia, and into the cottage's front garden. From here she could approach the building at an angle that would hide her from view if the jelly-baby man should happen to look out. Gliding towards the nearer of the two downstairs windows, she saw with an excited frisson that the curtains were closed. Closed. In
daylight. Her pulse quickened; she moved closer —
The front door of the house opened, and the jelly-baby man emerged.
Nina shot back into the gap between the bushes with the speed of a cat. There was a rustle, a shower of water drops, a snapping of twigs – she couldn't help it – and, on the doorstep, the jelly-baby man paused and looked up. Holding her breath, frozen, Nina stared wide-eyed as he peered in her direction. She was certain he had seen her. But after a moment or two he merely shrugged, muttered something (it sounded, ludicrously, like 'Ho, hum'), put a bulging supermarket carrier bag into the dustbin and went back into the house, closing the door peaceably behind him.
Still holding her breath, Nina slunk out of the garden as quickly as she could without risking more noise. Back on the road she finally allowed her lungs to release their pent-up air, and stood for a few moments shaking with reaction. That had been far too close for comfort. If she were going to try again – and after that experience, it was a major if – then she must wait until she was utterly certain that he wasn't there. Next time she saw him at the beach, maybe. It was the only safe option.
Her legs still felt unsteady as she started to walk back to the village, and by the time she was half way up the long hill her thoughts were pendulum-ing between self-pity and the feeling that she had made a complete fool of herself. All right, then. Sod Ruth. Sod the jelly-baby man. From now on she was going to leave them to get on with it, whatever it was, and ignore the whole situation. She wasn't interested in any of it. She wasn't interested in anything.
A car was coming up behind her, revving hard and making heavy weather of the hill. Nina paid no need until a horn tooted, then she looked over her shoulder to see Steve's old van approaching. He pulled up (she almost heard the engine sigh with relief) and said, 'Want a lift?'
In her present mood Nina's instinct was to say no, but at the last minute she had the sense to acknowledge that a ride was better than walking. Besides, she could see yet another squall coming. She got in, and said tersely, 'Cheers.'
'Been down the beach?' Steve asked.
'Yeah.'
'Bet there aren't many people there in this weather.'
'No.'
'What's the surf like?'
'Lousy.'
He eyed her sidelong as he got the measure of her mood, and didn't say any more. They reached the top of the hill and he turned the van towards their parents' house. Then suddenly Nina said, 'You look awful!'
'Thanks a bunch!' Steve grimaced. 'Cheer me up, why don't you?'
'No, seriously!' Her tone suddenly and unexpectedly changed, and when he looked at her again he saw to his surprise that her expression was stricken. Her eyes searched his face, darting, worried. 'I mean it, Steve. Something's wrong with you. And your hands —' She pointed to them where they held the steering wheel. 'Those blisters aren't getting any better!'
'Oh, for God's sake ...' Steve didn't know why her concern annoyed him, but anger