57

WAS THIS IT THEN? WAS IT ALL GOING TO END HERE AND now? So many years since I’d heard that voice. It hadn’t changed.

On the other side of the alley wall, something scraped against the stone. It was a sound so soft it could almost have been a cat, even a rodent. I knew it was neither. I opened my mouth, tried to form the name on my tongue, but nothing came out.

From the main road came the sound of a police siren. On the other side of the wall, that of footsteps moving away.

‘No, wait. It wasn’t me. I didn’t call anyone.’

I had no idea whether I’d been heard. The footsteps had gone. It took me seconds to pull back the heavy-duty bolts on the gate and get into the alley. It was empty. Instinct told me not to run towards the street so I went the other way. Thirty metres and I’d arrived at a pathway that circled the park. Still no one in sight.

We were taught in training that it’s human instinct to turn left rather than right and that, with no other motivation, people will head to their left. That’s the way I went. The gateway to the park was open and I stopped to get my breath back. I could hear the music again. The tinkling tune, light as air bubbles, was trilling away from somewhere inside the park.

Careful now. The shrubs around the perimeter were tall and dense. Plenty of hiding places. On the other side of the park were recreation fields, several football pitches that became cricket pitches in summer. Every step now took me further away from people. I’d brought no radio with me, no phone, no weapon of any kind. I’d acted without thinking, running out here. I’d have been spotted leaving the garden but it would take time for back-up to arrive. In the meantime, my police-officer status would be no protection. I was just a woman, alone at night.

The park was long and narrow. Clumps of shrubs and ornamental trees prevented me from seeing the full length, but I knew it well enough. To my right was the young children’s play area. There were swings, a roundabout, a large treehouse complex with slides and stepping stones. Lots more hiding places. The eastern side of the park was aimed at older children and teenagers. There was a skate-board ramp and a BMX track.

Ahead of me was a circular structure of sheltered seating. In the darkest corner, I thought I could see movement among the shadows.

After the rain of earlier, the night was now dull, damp and mild, with no stars or moon that I could see. Just a thick covering of cloud. Not much wind either, and yet all around me the leaves that hadn’t yet been claimed by the autumn were shivering. I was shivering too. So much it was starting to hurt.

Then everything fell silent. Even the distant noise of traffic seemed to retreat and I had a sense of a defining moment approaching. I realized I’d stopped breathing and I began to wonder how long it had been exactly since I’d checked behind me.

I didn’t move.

‘I’m waiting,’ I said and could almost feel the hand reach out to touch my shoulder.

Then the silence broke, as though someone had waved a wand and brought the city back to life. I could hear traffic on the Wandsworth Road, leaves rustling like crisp packets, a car door being slammed.

And another police siren, one that – instinctively I knew – was heading this way. We were out of time.

I walked out of the park and back to my flat. As I left the alley I could hear footsteps running down the front steps and then someone banging on the door. I crossed my bedroom, picked up my rucksack and put it back on the wardrobe. I wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight.

I had things to do.