Dillon could see her falter for a moment. As Hugh led her away she turned, then shrugged, as if to say ‘What can I do?’
Dillon stared after them. His jaw was set. His heart hammered in his chest. He should grab Hugh and stop him; take away his keys. But he could see the look in Hugh’s eyes. He’d try and punch his lights out. And if he got physical with Dillon, Dillon would fight back and there was no doubt who would come off the worse. Dillon worked outside all day; Hugh sat behind a desk and went out for boozy lunches. He couldn’t beat up Alice’s fiancé. Sarah would be horrified.
He pulled his own keys out of his pocket. He would follow them home. Make sure Alice didn’t come to any harm. It was his duty. If anything happened to her, how could he ever look Sarah in the eye again? He headed out into the car park. The night air was crisp and cold; frost starting to settle on the branches.
Hugh’s car was waiting in the car-park exit, the engine idling.
Dillon got into his old Fiesta. He drove up behind the Audi, waiting patiently. He wasn’t going to pip his horn. He knew that was what Hugh wanted him to do. He was goading him. The seconds seemed like minutes. Dillon tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, trying not to get wound up. He wondered what Alice was thinking, if she knew what game Hugh was playing. She probably wouldn’t have a clue. Dillon was pretty sure she had no idea of her fiancé’s true colours.
Finally the Audi shot out of the car park and into the road, accelerating at a terrifying rate. He could imagine Hugh at the wheel, laughing his head off. There was no way his little car could keep up with his high-powered vehicle. Dillon’s lips tightened as he joined the road and followed in Hugh’s wake.
The lanes back to Peasebrook Manor were inky black at this time of night with trees looming on either side. Dillon dropped down a gear and put his foot down, taking the bends carefully. And then he turned the blind bend half a mile before the entrance to Peasebrook Manor and saw his worst fear in front of him. The massive oak tree that loomed over the corner was pierced by Hugh’s car.
The driver’s door was open. Dillon could see Hugh in the road, hands at his head. The passenger side had taken the full impact.
There was a horrible silence.
Dillon pulled out his phone. Thank God there was a signal here. He pulled into a gateway, flicked on his hazard warning lights, dialled the police and opened his door in one fluid movement, jumping out into the road.
Hugh came running up to him. There was panic on his face.
‘Have you got your phone? I can’t find my phone.’
Dillon pushed him out of the way and spoke into the phone. ‘Ambulance, please. And police.’
He strode past Hugh who pulled at his arm. ‘Not the police—’
Dillon pushed him away. ‘There’s been an accident at the Withyoak turn. Car’s gone right into the tree. I don’t know how many casualties yet but definitely one!’
Dillon hung up and ran towards the car, jumping into the driver’s side.
Alice was slumped over the airbag, unconscious. Her side of the car was crushed. There was broken glass, and blood on her face and her hands and in her hair. He could see that her legs were trapped. Dillon couldn’t begin to try and get her out. He might do more harm than good. He realised he was crying. He should have stopped her. Hugh poked his head through the door.
‘Shit. Is she all right?’
‘No she fucking isn’t! There’s blood everywhere.’
‘Oh Jesus. Jesus Jesus Jesus.’
‘Alice! Can you hear me?’ Dillon put a tentative hand on her shoulder. ‘You’re going to be OK. The ambulance is on its way. Alice?’ Dillon felt sick as he realised there was no response. He took her wrist and felt for a pulse. It was still there, and now he knew she was still alive he could see her breathing.
What should he do? Dillon was racking his brain for first aid rules, but he couldn’t think of anything. Her legs were trapped. He couldn’t pull her out. He didn’t want to move her in case he did more damage. All he could do was reassure her. He was shaking. With shock and fear and anger.
‘It’s your fucking fault,’ said Hugh. ‘You were following us. I saw you pull out right behind me. You were harassing us.’
‘Don’t talk crap.’
‘I’m going to make sure they have you for dangerous driving.’
‘They’ll think you’re having a laugh. My car doesn’t do over sixty.’ Dillon pointed a thumb over to his ancient car in the nearby gate. ‘And they’ll see the tyre tracks.’
Hugh looked at the road in the moonlight. Dillon was right. There was a pair of black lines imprinted on the road where he’d lost it on the corner. They’d be able to work out his speed.