The Girl On The Bus

NM Brown

Contents

The Girl on the Bus

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Epilogue

A Note from Bloodhound Books:

Acknowledgments

The Girl on the Bus

N.M. Brown

Copyright © 2017 N.M Brown

The right of N.M. Brown to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in 2017 by Bloodhound Books

Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.bloodhoundbooks.com

Print: 978-1-912175-15-4

'To my family, for your faith and patience'

Prologue

Claire Woods sighed as she carefully placed Rita back into her cushioned baby seat. Thankfully, after two hours in a hot car, she was almost asleep. It had been her seven-year-old son’s helpful suggestion they take a break at the roadside services. The baking car had been like a glass prison for him, and when he spotted the red and white diner sign, it offered an escape to fresh air, and the promise of an iced soda.

As she struggled to manipulate the baby’s arms through the webbing straps, Claire felt her son tug at her elbow. He stood restlessly next to her, wearing a yellow Sponge Bob t-shirt and blue denim shorts, as he moved helplessly from side to side.

‘Hang on a minute, Daniel,’ she said, trying to remain patient.

‘I really need to use the bathroom,’ he said, while squirming, and twisting his small fingers together.

‘Don’t be silly, you've just been.’ Claire let out an aggravated breath, as she continued to fight against the unforgiving child harness.

Her statement was not entirely correct. After sitting in a red leather booth for the half hour it had taken Rita to reluctantly accept her bottle, Daniel had consumed two large cups of gassy Sprite. Claire had, therefore, assumed both her children would be full, and took the baby to the changing room, telling Daniel to come, too. Daniel, however, had recently reached that age where he was uncomfortable peeing in front of his mother. This was a humorous and poignant development for her, who had watched her liberated little boy dance around the house blissfully naked for most of his life. To accommodate his new-found modesty, Claire sent her son to use the gents’ restroom, which was located beside the baby changing room. For added security, she left the door unlocked. Yet, rather than going to the bathroom, as agreed, Daniel – who was hopelessly attracted by all things glitzy – had stopped to gaze at the small cluster of arcade games. He had peered wide-eyed at the claw grab machine, which – as if sensing his presence- had spontaneously come to life. Daniel pressed his nose against the glass, and watched the silver claw judder to the centre of the cabinet, then descend, like the hand of a god, to pluck at the grinning stuffed toys below.

As Daniel stood hypnotized by the metallic claw, Claire eventually approached him with a look of triumph on her face. Rita was finally sleeping. Claire held a finger up to her lips and nodded her head towards the exit.

It wasn't until they were already at the car the boy realised he had forgotten to go the bathroom, and his full bladder felt swollen and painful.

At first, Daniel thought he could possibly hold on with his legs crossed until the next comfort break, but his body was already struggling to contain the fluid. This was what convinced him to tug his mother’s elbow, as she arranged Rita in her seat.

Claire looked down at Rita, who was, for the moment, still asleep. To risk taking her back inside, and reawakening the beast, was not a viable option, but neither was leaving her in the busy car park. Over the years, Claire had heard enough horror stories about babies being snatched from public places, or about social services getting involved when an infant had been left in a car for mere minutes. Her only option was to get Daniel to hurry into the toilets, while Claire watched from the driver’s seat. He was a sensible boy, and even aged four, he had received the Gingerbread Kindergarten prize for road sense.

‘Okay.’ Claire stood up, and peered across the three rows of parked cars and buses to the building, ‘I can’t leave Rita, and if I lift her she will probably wake up. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ her son replied, and nodded vigorously.

‘So,’ she continued, ‘I'm going to let you go yourself, okay?’

‘Sure,’ Daniel said quickly.

‘Now, the toilets are just inside the entrance, over there,’ Claire said slowly, as she pointed to the double doors.

Her restless son nodded enthusiastically.

‘It’s the first door inside.’

‘I know.’ Daniel squirmed some more. ‘We've just been there.’

‘Well, you go back in yourself, watch out for cars, and use the crossing point. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ Daniel whined, and hurried off.

Keeping her eyes locked on her son, Claire climbed into the warm seat of the Toyota Camry. She followed her son’s journey, as he snaked through the labyrinth of cars. He moved quickly between a Lexus and a Ford Focus, then disappeared between two coaches, only to reappear a moment later at the crossing point. Claire watched the doorway of the building for a few minutes. Behind her, Rita began to snore lightly. In the fleeting moments that Daniel was lost from sight, dark fears appeared like storm clouds around the fringes of Clare’s mind. They were quickly dispelled by the reappearance of her son, a moment later, in the doorway of the service station. Holding up one hand, he waved proudly to his mother, and then, purposely checked the road before crossing. Claire exhaled, then smiled, and turned around to check on her sleeping baby.


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