Chapter 11

Margaret pulled herself to her feet and scampered over to the window, her heart pounding in her chest. She saw the figure of Tony bundle Annabel into the back seat of his Ford Capri and ran over to the phone; it was dead.

"Ahh shit," she cried loudly and picked up her car keys from her desk. It was stupid, she knew that, but she ran out into the street and unlocked her car just as Tony's Ford Capri turned down the end of the road, skidding in the icy weather.

Margaret's ten year old Vauxhall Viva started at the second attempt and her wheels skidded as she dropped the clutch and her car moved off. She swore at the vehicle, turning right to follow the red car as it moved South out of the town.

She expected to have more gunshots fired at her, and kept her distance; she knew she needed to summon help but couldn't let Annabel and her baby leave her sight. It was a dilemma.

Margaret felt an adrenaline rush as her car slid on a patch of ice and she gripped the steering wheel to right her vehicle. She kept the car on the road and the red Capri started to leave the town as it shot past the small hospital. She saw a figure walking on the pavement.

Margaret slowed her car, skidding and leant across the front seats to wind down the window as the figure jumped out of the way. Her tyre hit the kerb and she slammed the brake on. "Police. Call the Police," she shouted as the figure peered into the car.

"Ahh what dya want. Other than tryin' to kill me."

Margaret focused on the man – PC Iain Kennedy – and she shrieked. "Get in."

"What dya want?"

"Get in," she yelled. "He's got Annabel."

"Ahh ... who?"

Margaret hit the horn. "Get in, Christ's sake. I've been shot at."

Iain opened the door and he had barely put a foot inside when she accelerated fiercely, causing him to swear at her. "What's goin' on?"

Margaret watched the open road, sniffing. "Annabel ... she's been kidnapped and I've been shot at." She didn't wait for a response as her car took the racing line in the ice at over 70mph.

"Careful," Iain cried. "Ya gonna get us killed."

Margaret didn't listen and sped along the riverside road that followed the land around to the coast, telling him the story of the previous 24 hours. Her car bounced dramatically as the suspension was not used to such speeds and Iain grabbed hold of the seat as Margaret used all of the road, and a bit of the kerb, around the bends.

They could see the red Capri also struggling with the snow and ice that lined the road and Margaret was gaining on them. "This ain't The Sweeney, love," he told her. "Aye calm it down."

"Shut up," Margaret cried. "If you'd done ya job 'e wouldnae be on the street."

He was thrown against the door as she swung the car into a right turn. "If ya didnae keep getting the bastards out when we catch 'em," he started telling her and then was thrown back against the car door with a cry.

The Capri came up against a sharp left turn to stay on the road and lurched to the left before going down a side road on the right that lead down to the estuary. "Wheres'ee going?" Margaret cried as her car followed Tony and Annabel.

"Ya better not be kiddin' me," Iain moaned as their car hit a small track. The snow covered the road and he glanced out over the beach that was down a small embankment and led to the water's edge. "Careful down 'ere."

"'Es getting away," Margaret cried as she accelerated further. The Ford Capri turned a gentle corner, lurched to the right, hit the embankment, sliding down it and skidding over the sand.

"Stop 'ere," Iain told her and Margaret slammed on the brakes. Her car skidded, hitting the hedges on the other side of the track, but came to rest with a crunching sound. Iain opened the door onto the road and got out, staring out over the estuary. The Ford Capri was lit up in the twilight and he started running across the sand.