Page 84 of Ever After

“Ithink this road looks familiar.”

I look sideways at Levi. His hands are clutched so tightly around the steering wheel that his knuckles are white, and he’s peering ahead of us to where the headlights are sending crazy shadows across the road.

“Does it? It just looks like more trees to me,” I say. I stretch out my hand and lay it on his thigh. “It’ll be okay.”

“Will it?” he says grimly. “Because we’ve been driving for hours, and I’m pretty sure we’ve been going round in circles for most of that.”

“It’s Cornwall, babe. Little lanes and windy roads. Everything looks the same.”

“It really doesn’t, but thank you anyway.” He shakes his head. “I know I was on the right road, so how did we end up so lost?”

I have my suspicions, but I’m not prepared to say anything yet, because I fear it will make this whole situation worse. We’d left Jamaica Inn in the afternoon, expecting to be home shortly. Hours later, we’re still driving. It’s like being in one of my old nightmares where you’re stuck on an endless circular road that goes nowhere. Our phones don’t have any reception, and the sat nav stopped working as soon as we got onto the moor.

We’d stopped to ask for directions from a few people, but each result has been the same—after starting down a different road, as directed, we seem to end up on the same damn stretch of road.

“This is like Groundhog Day,” he says. I raise my eyebrows. “It’s a film. The character was doomed to spend the same day over and over again.”

“I can think of better days to repeat.”

“Would one of those be our wedding day?”

“With our luck we’d be doomed to live it as a day of long speeches and high emotion,” I say gloomily, watching the hedges flying past.

He shifts in his seat, suddenly alert. “You know, I think this is actually a different road. We never passed that gate before.”

Hope flares. “Do you think we’ll be home in time to get takeout?” I ask lightly.

“What time is it? The clock in the car has stopped.”

“Since when? Isn’t it linked to the battery?”

He shrugs, his eyes intent on the road. “Yes.”

“Well, did it stop before or after we got on this road to nowhere?”

“I think after.” He bites his lip.

I look down at my watch and freeze. “It’s midnight,” I whisper.

“What?”

I show him my watch. “It’s midnight. I checked it about ten minutes ago and it was five o’clock then.”

“But it can’t be. We left Jamaica Inn at four. There’s no way we’ve been driving for eight hours.”

“And yet we have,” I mutter.

“How is that possible?”

Before I can confide my fears, the car makes a funny noise. “What’s that?”

Levi frowns. “I’m not sure.” The car slows.

“Is that you stopping the car?” I ask.

He darts me a look. “No, it’s losing power.”

Almost as soon as he says it, the engine makes a clunking noise. The headlights flicker and grow dim.