She first saw him in the dusky evening light on the far side of the deck. From a distance he looked like all the other scruffy truck drivers who had taken up residence on the windswept deck, the only place on the Cross Channel ferry where they could smoke their foul-smelling cigarettes, huddled in groups and muttering to each other in a strange language.
Annie regretted her decision to venture out onto the open deck. Childhood memories of midnight crossings had given her a sense of adventure which she yearned to relive. The ferry slipping into a foreign harbour at some ungodly hour, the smell of diesel fumes in the air, the coldness of the dawn and the harsh neon lights of the docks.
But somehow the reality, twenty years later, was rather different. She'd made her way outside to watch the huge, white ferry negotiate the harbour wall, but instead of romance and half-remembered dreams, she'd come across leering foreign truck drivers who'd sized her up like a piece of meat.
So the man who had repeatedly glanced in her direction as she stood motionless against the railings had been put in the same category. Annie guessed that he was in his mid forties, tall and broad-shouldered and with shoulder length, dark, wavy hair that looked in need of a wash. His shabby checked shirt and jeans, and clumsy clogs marked him out as just another truck driver taking the air before embarkation. But he wasn't smoking, just gazing at the black water as the ferry chugged into the darkening port, the clanking of chains giving an indication that soon Annie would be asked to return to her car and start her journey.
She looked over again but the man had gone and just for a fleeting second she felt a bizarre sense of sadness, that somehow she'd missed out on something important, a chance to be seized upon and held. Shaking herself, she glanced at her watch and made her way back into the bar area. The ferry was almost empty; just a few drivers hanging around the bar and tossing back a whisky or two as they gathered up their bags. Over the tannoy, one of the crew informed the passengers that it was time to return to their vehicles and the ferry engines shuddered as they came alongside the dock.
Annie felt the excitement course through her veins as she joined the throng of people by the stairs. There were a few couples making their way below to the car decks, but she was the only lone female and she thought of the journey ahead of her, the miles that lay between her and the small farmhouse in Alsace that she'd rented for a week. She needed this break, needed to clear her head and find out what she really wanted from life. The recent months had been full of sadness, full of despair and pain and she wanted to spend some time in the sun.
People were returning to their cars and Annie looked around in the faint hope she would see him again. Maybe she'd been wrong and he wasn't a truck driver, but the cars surrounding hers were smart and British, their shiny surfaces reflecting the bright lights of the deck. The passengers themselves were no doubt destined for southern France, couples in comfortable middle age who were heading for gites or small hotels, maps clutched in their hands as they settled themselves into their cars. Annie glanced again at her own map spread out on the passenger seat and took a deep breath. Although she'd driven abroad before, she'd never done so alone and she felt a small niggle of doubt that she was doing the right thing. The decision to flee had been the right choice at the time, but now she felt a little foolish, despite the excitement that still made her shiver.
Ahead of her the cars were moving, inching slowly down the steep ramp that led to the lower deck and terra firma. Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she followed the long line of vehicles, brake lights glowing in the growing darkness. She could see a convoy of lorries already making their way through the port and wondered if he was among them. He definitely looked foreign, maybe Dutch or Danish, and she smiled at how she'd always had a weakness for men from Northern Europe. Despite his scruffy appearance there'd been something sexy about him, a sense of danger, perhaps, that had attracted her. Normally she went for smart men who dressed well and who gave off an air of affluence, but this man definitely did not fit into that category.
Annie shivered again as her car hit the uneven surface of the ramp. All the sounds and sights brought the memories flooding back and she gripped the steering wheel tightly. Turning on her CD player the car was suddenly filled with sound, a track called "Angel" by Massive Attack booming out of the speakers and its haunting, almost sinister music and lyrics suiting her surroundings well.
The French port of Dunkirk lay before her. It was an unattractive place at the best of times but now, as the darkness closed in upon her, the docks seemed desolate, empty except for the long line of vehicles making their way to the motorway. Annie slowly followed a short line of cars dwarfed by the lorries before and behind them. She was acutely aware of her movements, as if she was being watched, but chided herself for being silly. Why should this stranger affect her so much? Was she really that desperate for company that she could imagine a connection between her and some scruffy truck driver who she'd never see again?
Annie listened to the simple yet tremendously powerful lyrics of the song. She needed an angel now, she realised, someone to bring her love and take care of her for a change. She swallowed back the tears that were threatening to spill over onto her cheeks.
The last few months had been painful and unhappy but she was determined to get over the man she had once thought was her soul-mate. Get a grip, she told herself, don't be ridiculous. There was such a long way to go and the last thing she wanted was to give into the sadness that had propelled her on this journey in the first place.
Ahead of her the cars braked as they approached a roundabout and Annie slowed, but instead of the reliable lessening of speed, she heard a loud grating noise and nothing happened. Pressing her foot hard on the brake once more in disbelief, she felt the same juddering sensation but still no response.
Oh no, please...Annie looked around wildly for somewhere to stop, the only place a grass verge a few feet away from the roundabout. Turning the wheel sharply to the right, she felt the tyres sink into the soft grass and mercifully the car came to an abrupt halt.
In panic, Annie repeatedly pressed the brake pedal but it was unresponsive. She sat there for a few moments, unable to believe that her journey was over before it had even begun. Switching off the engine she forced herself to calm down. It was probably a hiccup and when she turned the key in the ignition again, all would be working. Only it didn't.
Frantically trying to stop herself collapsing into a pool of tears, Annie released the bonnet catch and opened the car door. Maybe she could look at the engine and work out what was wrong...
But she hadn't reckoned on the darkness or the lorries that thundered by, only inches from her car. Over and over again she heard the noise of their horns as they hurtled past, the few cars on the road ignoring her plight. Soon, she knew, she would be completely alone on a dark empty road. As she returned to the car to find her breakdown policy she saw a pair of headlights approaching. She was dazzled by the glare but instead of feeling relief at the prospect of help, she immediately felt a sense of trepidation.
Getting into her car she slammed the door shut and locked it, her fingers trembling as she reached for mobile and held it to her ear. Rummaging through her bag, the loud tap on the window made her jump in alarm.
"Are you OK?"
Annie looked straight into the eyes of her truck driver, his face concerned as he gazed through the closed window. Her heart rate increased rapidly as she stared back at him, thumping loudly in the silence of the car. She hadn't noticed his neat goatee beard before and she realised she was looking at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Everything seemed to slow down and she pointed to the phone and nodded, but he gestured to the open bonnet and Annie, feeling a huge surge of excitement rush through her veins like a drug, opened the door and tentatively followed him to the front of her car.
"What is the problem?"
He had a slight accent, but his English was perfect. He didn't wait for her reply but peered into the engine as if by looking, he could find the fault.
"It's the brakes. They just stopped working."
He grunted and made his way back to the driver's door, sitting down heavily in her seat, his large frame filling the space. "Nothing happens when you press the brake?"
"No, just a grinding noise."
"You have insurance for this?"
Annie nodded. "I was just about to ring them."
"You can't stay here alone. It's not safe." He got out of the car and looked around at the port which was quiet now, the last of the ferry traffic making its way past them.
Annie couldn't help but agree. The next ferry wasn't due for a couple of hours and the thought of being stranded all alone filled her with fear.
"I saw you...on the ferry?"
