Not a stranger, she corrected herself, Neil had never been a stranger, though what was strange was this blossoming relationship, so unexpected, so swift, so wonderful. With the thought of Neil came the memory of her mother and the horrors of the night before. Sick with revulsion she closed her eyes, trying to blot out the sight she feared would haunt her; the shattered skull, the blood, the grotesque puppet dangling over the arm of the wheelchair.I won’t think about that now. She bit her lip. I’ve got other things to worry about. Underneath it all though, under the shock and the grief that was unexpectedly sharp, beside the happiness and surprise of Neil, ran a bubbling stream of excitement and relief.I’m free! I’m free at last and she can never, ever, hurt me again. Pauline Winslow was up and about very early. She dressed quietly, checked on the silent house and then, with a word to the member of staff on night duty, slipped out of the back door and walked briskly over the road to the church.
