Chapter VI

On Wednesday night Tyler always went to the local where he would have a few beers with friends and, on those nights, would get a late pass from Sally. They would go back to one of the houses to watch a movie and play cards. If he left before three in the morning it was very unusual. Sally would go to bed when the television finished and had got used to the three or four lurches in the mattress, accompanied by the tug of the covers that meant that her husband had returned. On this occasion, Tyler left his friend's at the usual time and, although Newbury was not exactly on his way home, he decided to go and have a look round the Newlands estate. "Milkman will be round in an hour or so - he might know of any recent arrivals", he pondered. "Might be a she at that!" A grin flickered across his face as he passed 19 Rowdon Avenue and thought of Mrs Collins tucked up in bed with her Chris. He parked at the end of the road and pressed in a Randy Crawford tape, adjusted the seat back and made himself comfortable. A screech of tyres, a shout and a sound like a heavy cardboard box being dropped woke him with a start. "Jesus Christ!" he shouted, reaching for the ignition key. The tape had stopped long ago and dawn was breaking. He revved the Audi engine and slammed it into gear, releasing handbrake and clutch together as the car shot forward and he headed towards the noise he had heard. As he noticed two taillights disappearing onto the main road he braked hard, his headlights picking out the shape of a body in the road. Tyler was about to get out when a door opened in the house opposite. Lights went on upstairs and a weird yellow pattern fell across the grass, ending sharply in a line running across the body on the ground then veering sharply towards the car, striking Tyler on the right side of his face. A dark mass under the body's head grew, slowly eclipsing the false dawn created by the house light. His own car lights showed two twisted legs but the angle he had stopped at had left them pointing at nothing other than dewy grass which sparkled like a distant city harbour. A shadow appeared in the doorway. A shout. Tyler cut his lights, reversed into the drive behind, then swiftly got away. Once round the corner he turned on the lights again and hoped that he had been quick enough for his registration not to have been spotted. It was one of those instant decisions that can never be retracted. If he had stayed he would have had a lot of answers to find and, even then, the facts looked bad. By leaving, it may have looked worse but, with a bit of luck, no one would connect him with a 'hit-and-run' he had, in all honesty, nothing to do with. Any car that moved on the way back made his heart pump that much faster. Despite his innocence, a guilty conscience made even shadows seem real and every parked car was a police car lying in wait for him. He turned off the main road and went through the lanes then cursed as he thought that he would have been far better going back along the busier main road which, even at that time of the morning, had a steady flow of traffic into which he could easily merged. Here, in the lanes, he was conspicuous and, still some ten miles from home, a breakdown would lead to questions. No breakdown. No police cars. No shrill siren. He pulled up at his house quietly and crept inside. Sally, fast asleep, only stirred slightly as the mattress shifted and as she was silently robbed of some covers.