He's After Me

Chapter NINETEEN



‘No! NO! NO! NO!’ We turn the corner before I come to my senses and, using both hands and all my weight, manage to drag Jem to a standstill. ‘Go back! We’ve got to go back!’ I plead with him desperately. ‘You might have killed him!’

His face twists into a delighted grin.

‘It’s not funny!’ I screech at him. ‘What’s wrong with you? He could be bleeding to death!’

‘It’s paint, Anna. I sprayed paint at him.’

I stare at him blankly.

‘What? You think I shot him?’

My eyes close and I collapse against him, my face against his chest. His arms go around me briefly, then he says, ‘Come on. We can’t hang around here. There’ll be someone here in a minute. He’ll be on his radio.’

‘Will he be all right?’ I say reluctantly, looking back, and he says, ‘Yes!’ Then there’s the unmistakable wail of a police siren and I am about to make a bolt for it in blind panic when he says, ‘Stop!’ and grabs my beanie from my head so my hair tumbles down to my shoulders. He pulls his off too, stuffing them both into his pocket, and puts his arm around me.

‘Put yours round me too,’ he instructs. ‘And your head on my shoulder. That’s it. Now walk with me slowly, slowly … keep your face turned into me …’

To my surprise he turns around and we’re walking back the way we’ve come, a parody of a loving couple strolling into town on an innocent night out, just as a police car tears up behind us. We watch as it screams past round the corner, then he turns around again, grabs my hand and we leg it as fast as we can in the other direction.

I have never been so scared in all my life.