Broken Lines by Jo Bannister Read Free Book Online Page B

she needed and not just the way to some barn or byre. Leaving the road she drove through the eerie flatness of The Levels with not a house, not a car, not even a tractor in sight.
    Then suddenly she was there, a little stand of willows screening the cottage until the glint of water at the end of the lane had already brought her to a halt.
    There was no car in front of the house, which might have meant there was no one at home or just that the Taylors hadn’t yet replaced the white saloon. Liz rang the bell and waited, and was at length rewarded by footsteps in the hall.
    â€˜Mrs Taylor? I don’t expect you remember me – I’m Brian Graham’s wife, we’ve met at the school.’
    Patricia Taylor nodded, politely enough but without warmth: either she wasn’t sure who her visitor was or she didn’t care.
    Liz pressed on. ‘Actually, I’m here in my official capacity, as a Detective Inspector.’ She produced her warrant card, mostly from habit. ‘About the crash.’
    â€˜I made a statement.’
    â€˜Yes. I hoped we could talk a bit more about it now the dust’s had time to settle.’
    Mrs Taylor showed her to a chintzy sitting room that enjoyed the winter sun and a view across the canal to the endless vista of The Levels beyond – a sort of Dutch landscape that made the ordeal of bouncing up a farm track eminently worthwhile. She took a chair and gestured Liz to the sofa. ‘I don’t know if I can add anything to what I’ve already said.’
    She was a year or two younger than Liz, her nose up against the great watershed of forty. She was dark and erect, with a reserved manner that earlier generations would have considered properly school-marmish. In today’s educational climate it set her apart from those of her colleagues who taught in sweatshirts and trainers.
    â€˜How are you feeling now?’
    Pat Taylor’s dark eyes widened as if she considered the inquiry slightly impertinent. Then she seemed to realize it was just part of the process. ‘All right, I suppose. Bruised – I’ve got the marks of the seat-belt printed right across me. Shaken, of course. The hospital said there was no damage done so I suppose I should be grateful. I could be dead. I could be a vegetable!’ She heard her voice climbing and fell abruptly silent.
    Liz nodded gently. ‘I know. It makes you feel so vulnerable, doesn’t it? It makes you think you’ll never be safe outside your own front door again.’ Liz wasn’t talking about a car crash but she was talking from personal experience. ‘But it does pass. First it fades a little, so it’s somehow less intrusive, less disabling. Then you notice that you’ve gone a whole afternoon without thinking about it, then a whole day. And then it takes its place in history. You don’t forget, but you get past it and move on. Thank God it was only the car you lost, not a member of your family.’
    Mrs Taylor managed a wan smile. ‘I’m sorry. You must think I’m behaving very badly.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly. You had a brush with death, of course you’re shocked. It’ll take time to find your feet again. But you must have driven an awful lot of miles when nobody trashed your car, and it’s most unlikely anything like it will ever happen to you again.’
    â€˜Who was he?’ She didn’t say who she meant; she didn’t have to.
    â€˜I don’t expect you’d know him. He’s only a young lad, but he’s got quite a track record. There was a robbery at the garage on Cambridge Road, he may have been involved in that. My sergeant gave chase, and he seems to have been more interested in getting away than winning awards for his driving. You were just very unlucky.’
    â€˜Your sergeant,’ echoed Mrs Taylor. ‘The tall man, who came over to me after the crash?’
    â€˜Yes, that’s