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option was.
    Should she run? Try to escape whoever had followed her into the subterranean walkway?
    Or should she merely stand still and put her theory to the test? If someone was following her then, if she stopped, they would stop, she told herself.
    Laura seemed pleased with her own logic and decided to try the second of her strategies. However, she reasoned, if someone was following her then if she stopped that would make her an easier target. The person following would simply be able to reach her more easily. She sighed, confused now. If there was someone following her then surely if they wanted to catch up with her then they could simply speed up. If they wanted to catch her that badly then that’s what they’d do, wasn’t it?
    Laura was beginning to wonder if there was even anyone there any longer but she knew there had to be because there was no way out of the underpass other than the path on which she now walked. Unless that person had doubled back but, she told herself, why would they want to do that?
    All this thinking and wondering was really becoming quite tiring. Laura decided that her best bet would be to run a little way, so that she reached home more quickly. After all, home waswhere she wanted to be. Home was where her mum would be waiting. Home meant safety.
    Laura moved a little quicker for about twenty yards then decided that it was too hot to run.
    She slowed down and listened, still determined not to look behind her. It was like when she was lying in bed at night and she heard strange noises. Her mum had told her that if she heard anything at night to just ignore it, that there was nothing to worry about. Just close her eyes and go back to sleep. The same when there was a thunderstorm. Her dad had told her that the thunder was just the clouds bumping together and that there was nothing to be frightened of. Imagination could cause all sorts of problems, she decided. A bit like imagining that there was somebody following you when there most probably wasn’t. Laura was ready to blame her overactive imagination.
    She wondered for a moment if it could be one of her friends trying to scare her but rapidly decided that wasn’t the case. They all lived on the other side of the estate, they wouldn’t have followed her all this way and, besides, none of her friends would be that rotten. Why would they want to frighten her?
    Why would anyone want to frighten her? Unless it was that man that she’d heard her dad talk about sometimes. What was his name? Peter something. She remembered hearing it on the television news, too. He was a horrible man who did nasty things to little girls like her. Now, what was his name?
    Peter what? Her dad had said that he should be strung up for the things he did to kids.
    Laura frowned as she tried to remember this awful man’s name
.
    Peter. She smiled to herself. Peter File. That was it. Her dad had been angry about a man called Peter File because he hurt children.
    Laura hoped that it wasn’t that man who was following her. She didn’t even know that he lived in her town. All she knew was she didn’t want to meet him.
    She now decided that perhaps running was the best option after all.

10
     
    ‘Hey, sweetie, it’s me,’ trilled the voice of the caller as soon as Paul’s recorded message stopped.
    Recognising it, Paul lunged for the phone and lifted it, simultaneously jabbing the STOP button on the answering machine.
    ‘Amy,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s me. I’ve got it.’
    ‘Hey, you,’ the voice on the other end of the phone said. ‘I didn’t expect to get your machine at this time of night. Where were you?’
    ‘I was here, I’ve not long got in.’
    ‘I’m not checking up on you, sweetie,’ she chuckled.
    ‘I was joking. I guessed you were working late or something.’
    Paul held the phone limply for a moment.
    ‘Paul?’ Amy Thomas continued. ‘Are you still there?’
    ‘Yeah, I’m still here.’
    ‘Can you hear me all right?’
    ‘Fine.