Never Look Back Read Online Free PDF Page A

her hands and knees to retrieve it an hour later when she was calm enough. He had made her crawl in her own home and cower under her own windowsill.
    She pulled her duvet up around her chin and turned onto her side, staring at her white wall. She reached out a cold hand and let it hover over the switch on the bedside lamp. If he was outside, watching, he would know that she was in her bedroom. Her hand retreated under the covers. She was so thirsty but knew she couldn’t make it to the kitchen. Now she had closed herself in, her bedroom door was both a comfort and a terror.
    Unable to sleep, Sarah tossed and turned, watching the red numbers projected by her alarm clock onto the ceiling, counting the hours. Her mind drifted, sleep sucking her under for just a moment until her stomach lurched, forcing her eyes open, dragging her back to consciousness.
    A ringing sound floated along her senses. As her mind moved in slow motion towards understanding, the ringing became louder, deafening. She sat up, staring. On the bedside table her mobile vibrated, the blue light from her phone illuminating the room. She edged towards the noise, keeping the covers tight around her. For a fleeting second she imagined seeing Toni’s name or even her mother’s. The face of her phone came into view. ‘Call’ was all the screen told her. She could answer. She wouldn’t, but she could. It was 1 a.m. The phone stopped and after ten seconds the display went black. She tunnelled back into the centre of her bed, the duvet covering her completely. Her breathing slowed. The diary. ‘Damn it,’ she said as she stuck her head and one arm out of the warmth and grabbed the notebook and pen. She had made more notes in this last week than she had in the past four months. She looked at the time and scribbled: ‘1 a.m. call. Not answered. No message.’ She closed the book, pushed it back onto the table, and once again retreated under her duvet, groggy with restless sleep. She tucked herself into a ball and wrapped her arms around her legs. She could feel her body giving in, exhaustion dragging her under.
    Then she was dreaming about a series of doors. She was trying to find her room in a vast hotel. She recognized the concierge but she couldn’t ask him where room 1497 was. None of the doors would open. Each time she turned a brass handle it buzzed. They must be locked. Sarah desperately looked at the white corridor in front of her, hoping for a sign, an arrow she could follow. She tried another door. This time a buzzing and ringing sounded with each twist of the doorknob. She opened her eyes. A blue light danced over her ceiling. Without moving she reached over and picked up her phone, bringing it close to her face. ‘Call’ the screen said. She looked up at the time projected in red on her ceiling. It was 2 a.m. She pushed the phone beneath her pillow and waited for the ringing to stop. With automatic movements she picked up the notebook and pen and wrote down the entry. She lay back on the bed, her brain telling her she was dreaming. She was still in the hotel. Sarah closed her eyes and continued her search for room 1497.
    At 3 a.m. she was awake, staring at the ceiling. She had been considering turning her phone off for the past thirty-four minutes, but then how would she log the calls? And what would be the point anyway? He would still be calling but without the ringing she wouldn’t know. He would be sneaking into her bedroom without her knowledge and she couldn’t bear the thought of that. When the phone jumped into life next to her she didn’t even flinch. Her fear had been replaced with a kind of numb acceptance. The red numbers on her ceiling and the blue lights danced together now.
    At 4 a.m. she started laughing. Deep in her stomach she felt tremors that ran haphazardly through her body as though she was having a fit. ‘Come on,’ she said to the gloom. ‘Come on, then.’ Almost immediately he answered her. The ringing, the buzzing,