Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
‘Yes, yes, they’re fine.’
My lungs drain with relief, my head falling back on the chair. ‘Then why the call?’
‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,’ she begins, obviously making me worry. All sorts of things start flying around in my head, starting with that dirty little pervert who’s sweet on my girl.
‘I’ll decide that,’ I reply curtly.
‘You see, your wife hasn’t shown up to pick up the children from school. We’ve tried calling Mrs Ward’s mobile, but it’s gone to voicemail each time. We’ve left a message.’
‘She’s never late to collect the kids.’ I glance at my Rolex to see it’s three forty-five, a good half-hour since school finished.
‘I know, Mr Ward. Like I said, I’m sure she’s simply got caught in traffic, and maybe her phone has died.’
‘I’m on my way.’ I hang up and race out of the office, nearly taking a startled Cherry from her feet on my way. ‘When did Ava leave?’ I ask urgently over my shoulder as I sprint past her.
‘Two thirty. The usual time.’ I fight my heart down from my throat, immediately dialling Ava as I run full pelt out of the health club. I land in the seat of my car heavily, and just like I dreaded, Ava’s phone goes to voicemail. ‘Fuck!’ I start my car and speed out of the car park, heading for the main road. Right or wrong, I skip the red light. I’m a thirty-minute drive from the school, twenty if I break the speed limit.
I try Ava’s phone again, but once again get her voicemail, and my worry deepens with every minute that passes and I can’t get hold of her. ‘Where are you, beautiful?’ I hear Ava in my head telling me that I’m neurotic. Maybe I am. But nothing will ease my panic until I see with my own eyes that she’s okay.
I join the road that’ll take me to the kids’ school, being able to pick up speed now the traffic is moving more freely. I try to pull up the app on my phone that tracks all our cars, but the damn thing won’t load. ‘Fuck!’ I dial Ava again, mentally demanding she answers. ‘Come on, come on.’
‘Hello?’
Relief. So much fucking relief. But the relief of actually getting an answer dies the second my brain registers that whoever has answered isn’t Ava. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Who’s this?’
‘I’m the husband of the woman whose phone you have,’ I state curtly, my patience now completely evaporated.
‘I apologise. The caller ID stated “the Lord”.’
‘Nickname,’ I mutter, slowly concluding that my silly wife has lost her phone and this lady has found it.
‘Mr Ward, is it? Your wife is Ava Ward?’
‘How do you know my wife’s name?’ She has her phone, not her life story.
‘Her driver’s licence.’
It all becomes clear. ‘She’s lost her bag.’ I sigh, more relief washing over me, yet my foot doesn’t ease up on the accelerator.
‘I’m afraid not, sir. My name is PC Barnes.’ She pauses for a few long seconds, giving me a moment to let that information settle. ‘Mr Ward.’ Her voice has noticeably softened. Dread fills me. My heart speeds up. ‘I’m on the scene of a road traffic accident, and I believe your wife is one of the casualties.’
My tongue thickens in my mouth. ‘What?’
‘Sir . . .’ Her words blend and warp, fading into nothing as I stare ahead at the road. An accident. Casualties. My wife. I see blue lights flashing in my mind’s eye, bright and frightening, making me blink to clear them. But they don’t fade and it takes me a second to figure out why. They’re not in my mind’s eye. They’re in the distance.
Everything’s a blur. Noise, movement, my heartbeat.
I hear the sirens.
I hear my car screeching to a stop.
I hear my car door slamming behind me as I eject myself from my seat.
I hear my feet pounding the road as I sprint towards the carnage up ahead, seeing Ava’s mangled Mini upended on the opposite side of the road.
‘Oh my God.’ I choke. Every window is shattered; the two front tyres are missing, ripped from the body of the car. Skid marks zigzag the tarmac of the road before abruptly ending.
My world starts spinning, my breathing slowing. Crowds of people are blocking my path, and I fight my way through, shoving them to the side as I try to make it to the centre of the madness. ‘Please, no,’ I wheeze, staggering mindlessly through the throngs of spectators. ‘Please, God, no.’
A rough, broken sob rips through my body when I catch sight of the gurney, and my legs buckle, bringing me to my knees. ‘No!’ Straps circle her body, a breathing mask over her face. Blood is everywhere. She looks utterly broken, so fragile and damaged. My heart shreds in my chest. ‘God, no.’ The closer I get to her, the more damage I see.