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Sophie

I grab Adam’s arm as he propels forward, my other hand looped through the seat belt, and hang on.

He doesn’t slip through my grasp the way Lily did.

He slumps back into the seat. Brambles bang against the windows as our driver pulls closer to the hedgerow, hammering on the horn.

The other motorist swerves out of the way just in time.

‘Sorry.’ The driver – Bob, according to his badge by the dashboard – flicks a glance in his rear-view mirror. ‘Idiots are out on the roads tonight.’

The wipers flap frantically, but not fast enough to wash away the deluge of water hitting the windscreen. I fumble with my seat belt as the sky growls ominously; my fingers are trembling too badly to click it into the holder.

‘Let me.’ Adam takes over, strapping us both in, before placing his hand over mine. ‘We’re safe. You’re all right.’

I can’t reply. It’s not me I’m frightened for. I jump at the crackle of lightning in the distance. We’re heading towards the centre of the storm.

‘Is this...’ He shuffles in his seat. ‘Are you having a flashback?’

‘I’m mega stressed, like you.’ I dig my nails into my palms. ‘You should tell your mum we’re on our way. See if she has any news.’

Adam calls up her number, jamming the phone against his ear.

‘I can’t get a connection... What if she hasn’t found Wren?’

It’s my turn to reassure him .

‘Then she’ll keep looking until the police arrive.’

He takes my hand. ‘You’re right. We have to stay positive. Everything will turn out all right, I’m sure.’

I’m certain this journey will lead to Adam’s death and, possibly, mine. I force myself to nod while squeezing his fingers.

There’s nothing else I can do except hold on.

Nineteen minutes later, Adam’s anxiety is mounting.

Mine too. It’s 9.50 p.m. and time is running out.

Bob’s been forced to reverse back to the intersection due to flooding near the estuary and he’s taking another, more long-winded route.

I peer out of the window at the dark shapes looming either side of the car.

‘These trees are dangerous in high winds,’ I warn. ‘One of the old oaks came down in a storm a few years ago and killed a motorist.’

I remember the news story when I came back to oversee repairs at Mum’s house. Bob eases his foot off the accelerator.

‘You’re right,’ he says. ‘The council’s supposed to fit braces to tree trunks along here. We should turn back before it’s too late. The road could be blocked if large branches have fallen.’

‘A little further, please !’ Adam cries. ‘We need to be dropped as close to the beach as possible. My daughter’s only eight and she’s out there, alone, in this!’

On cue, thunder booms and the sky lights up with bright slashes of electric white.

‘Fine.’ Bob clutches the steering wheel tighter.

We turn the corner, and I hold my breath at the sight of more huge, dark silhouettes. The trees lean towards the car, as if attempting to catch a glimpse of our worried faces.

‘Dammit!’ Bob exclaims.

He ploughs through a deep puddle and takes his eyes off the windscreen, attempting to change gear. Up ahead, I watch an overhanging bough bend by 2 degrees, and then another 3. At this rate, it will fall in 5 seconds, 4, 3...

‘Brake!’ I scream.

Bob slams his foot on the pedal, and our belts strain as we grind to a halt. A terrific cracking sound rings out above the sound of the engine and howling wind. A dark shape crashes on to the road, just missing our bonnet.

Bob turns, rubbing his grey, stubbly chin. ‘Are you a psychic?’

Adam hangs on to the door handle, his mouth open in an O shape.

‘It was a lucky guess,’ I say.

Bob turns off the engine. ‘Do you want to give me a hand shifting it? We might manage it between the three of us.’

‘No.’ Adam’s voice wavers. ‘Reverse and turn around in the opening we passed. We’ll make our own way from here.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes! You’ve done enough, thank you. It’ll only take us five minutes by foot.’

Adam flings open his door, making the newspaper on the front seat flutter.

‘Wait!’ Bob opens his glove box and pulls out a torch. ‘Take this. Good luck finding your daughter.’

‘Thank you!’ Adam ducks out of the car.

I follow, and the door is ripped from my grasp. I catch hold of it, slamming it shut. Adam pulls up his collar and I attempt to fasten my coat, but we’re both soaked within seconds. The car reverses up the lane, headlights flickering before they’re swallowed by darkness. We’re completely alone.

‘Ready?’ I ask, kicking off my heels.

Adam turns on the torch. A strange expression flickers across his face –a mixture of fear and bewilderment.

Before I can ask if he’s okay, he clasps my hand and we run into the heart of the storm.