THEN
The Accident
They were singing. They were drunk. They were happy. That’s what Olivia recalled the most, afterwards. How happy her friends had been.
Sally was in the front. She always was. She said the back seat made her nauseous. And, as Olivia’s best friend, it was the natural place for her to be. Sally was chattering away about Mal, a boy she fancied who’d finally asked her out, not that this surprised Olivia. Men always gravitated towards Sally with her huge dark eyes and bubbly nature – including Olivia’s own boyfriend. Sally’s voice was high and excitable and a little slurred as she recalled the moment Mal had bought her a Diamond White. Olivia was finding it hard to hear her over the radio and the rain that was getting louder and heavier by the minute.
Tamzin and Hetty were in the back, mascara smudged below their eyes, their glittery crop tops poking through their not-warm-enough coats, smelling of booze and perfume. Their arms were wrapped around each other’s necks, acting as though they were still at Ritzy’s as they crooned along to ‘Two Become One’ by the Spice Girls.
Olivia’s heart sank. They promised they wouldn’t drink too much tonight. It had been Tamzin who’d goaded the others. Olivia had noticed her at the bar ordering double shots and flicking her long, peroxide-blonde hair over her slim shoulders, obviously hoping one of her many admirers would pay. And they usually did. Hers was a different type of beauty to Sally’s: brasher and more in your face with her colourful Wonderbras and skirts that barely covered her arse.
It hadn’t been raining when Olivia had headed out to pick up her friends earlier that evening. And it had only started to drizzle as they left the nightclub ten minutes ago. But now the downpour was so heavy that Olivia was finding it increasingly difficult to see the road ahead. Rain gathered in rivulets either side of her windscreen nearly obscuring her vision, despite her wipers being on max. The road stretched out in front of them, dark and all-encompassing as though they were travelling through space. Even on main beam it wasn’t enough to cut through the mist that was beginning to hover above the ground like dry ice.
As it was Olivia’s turn to drive she’d only sipped one glass of wine all evening. But now she felt it burn the back of her throat, hot and acidic as her little VW Beetle was buffeted by the strong winds. She wasn’t a nervous driver usually, but tonight felt different. She hated this road at the best of times. Dubbed the Devil’s Corridor by locals because of its reported hauntings, it cut straight through the forest and the effect of the tall beech and fir trees that reared up on either side made the road feel oppressive. Further on were the famous standing stones, and then their little town wrapped around it, a tourist trap full of mystical shops and tearooms.
The drumming of the rain drowned out the music, splashing on to the tarmac like darts shot from the sky. Olivia clutched the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white. The rain was now so loud that the others stopped singing abruptly and Sally dialled up the radio.
‘Turn it down,’ snapped Olivia and Sally did as she asked without complaint. It was too dark to see her expression, but she knew she’d offended her friend. She experienced a twinge of regret; she hated upsetting Sally.
‘What a night!’ exclaimed Hetty, leaning forwards, gripping onto Olivia’s headrest and straining against her seat belt. ‘Look at that rain.’
‘Can you sit back?’ Olivia’s voice was unusually curt. Hetty was the eldest and the leader of the group and didn’t like to be told what to do. Olivia couldn’t see Hetty’s face but she imagined her grimacing and rolling her eyes at Tamzin. Nevertheless, she heard her flop back against the seat.
‘I hope I hear from Mal tomorrow,’ Sally piped up in an attempt to break the tension, but she sounded more subdued now. ‘He said he would phone and … Shit! WATCH OUT!’
It took Olivia a couple of seconds to register what Sally was talking about.
Someone was standing in the middle of the road.