"Silly", she told herself. "You're just jumpy - he'll be off at the next stop".

But he wasn't and when she looked back at him again, he was facing in her general direction.

Through waves of apprehension, Sarah tried to think clearly. She reassured herself that she had nothing to fear. The only thing anyone would know about her was that she had been in the building when the 'youth from hell' had fallen.

Who was the man?

She didn't doubt that the youth would have many enemies. It was possible that he had been under surveillance and, seeing his fate, his investigators had now transferred their attention to her. But they couldn't yet know who she was and if she could give the man the slip, she could still be away free. One thing was certain, the last place she should get off the train was at her own station. They mustn't be led in the direction of her home and family. With a possible fatality behind her, the police didn't seem a good option.

Her home station of Weybridge station came and went. All remaining feelings of safety and security vanished as it faded into the distance and the train thundered onwards in the towards Woking.

Station after station passed and her worry grew that she could be left alone with him in the carriage. She was sure now, all the other occupants of the carriage had left and been replaced by newly boarded travellers. Inwardly, she cursed the mistaken idea of confronting the youth.

Finally, as the train drew into Basingstoke, she resolved to make her move. Leaving it until the last moment, she stepped through the closing doors and quickly moved down towards the station exit. With a feeling of new despair, she realised the man was just behind her.

In her way, there was a knot of people handing over their tickets. She pushed rudely forward into them. Then quickly walked on before the attendant could protest and was soon lost in the moving crowd. Briefly, she had felt a tiny tingling prick in her thigh almost unnoticed.

As the taxi rank came into view, the ground started to float around her, her legs began to buckle. The last thing she remembered before she drifted into unconsciousness, were strong arms catching her and a reassuring voice in the distance telling passers-by that his wife was prone to blackouts and that he would call for assistance on his mobile telephone. She tried to speak and call out but all that came out of her mouth were incoherent mumbles.



Back in London, the youth was painfully climbed the stairs back to his flatlet. A dog appeared from a side room and went spinning as his vicious kick found its mark. Unusually, fortune had smiled on him. A car roof had incredibly broken his fall. He had lain stunned for a full 5 minutes with his body against the side of the car and his face pressed against a drain pipe. Nobody came to his help. If anybody saw him, they didn't want to be involved.

Yet his lucky escape was the last thing on his mind. He kept going over and over in his mind about the injustice of it all. He'd only wanted a bit of fun and she'd tried to kill him. In his twisted mind, that was grossly unfair. She would have to pay.

He'd move out that day to avoid a set to with the landlord over the window. He'd combine his next job with a bit of a holiday using some of the proceeds of that last job. Then he'd find her and she'd be very sorry indeed.



The cushion of the settee Sarah was lying on felt rough under her cheek. Gradually she recovered her senses through a sickly haze and struggled into a sitting position. The room danced around a bit and then came slowly into focus.

It looked like an office waiting room. The sort of place you would sit in before being interviewed for a job. The walls were colour washed decorated only with occasional half hearted corporate abstracts.