Chapter 17

She woke up cold, naked and sick. She felt her head throbbing, her throat raspy and dry. Her eyes were dry and throbbed when she tried to open them.

There was a knock on one of the front windows. She sat up slowly, trying not to move too much, aside from trying to pull a blanket over her.

"Carpool? you in there?"

She woke up very suddenly. The voice. The name. Only one person called her this. How did he get here? why is he here?

She pulled the blanket very tight around herself and checked her phone. It was surprisingly early afternoon. She felt suddenly self conscious and vulnerable. The windscreen privacy shield was up still and the tinted windows were probably working extra well with the darkness of the arch if he hadn't seen her.

He knocked again. "Still asleep?"

Her sore throat got to her and she coughed. Hiding was not an option. "Here."

"That's good. Was worried you'd have been long gone. Stuck in traffic coming out of the city."

She looked out of the back, there was a blue 2012 BMW with a UK license plate blocking her in. She looked to try and catch sight of. She couldn't see his face from where she sat, but she saw the figure of an average sized man wearing black jeans, with red plaid shirt and brown weatherproof jacket.

"How did you get here?"

"Six o'clock ferry this morning. If you mean how did I know you were here? then you probably don't know your phone geotags any pictures you take."

She shuffled nervously. That was admittedly something she never considered. "I see."

"I did say i would come and check up on you. I mean you haven't answered your messages so i do feel a bit creepy just standing here at your car."

"Well, Im fine."

"It looks like you're living under a bridge. Im not a therapist or anything but Im pretty sure that's not normal."

"Im not your problem." She said, rasping a little.

"Kinda feel like I can't ignore you. I mean you did want to speak to me last night."

"I was just drunk. Sorry."

"Yeah and people normally go drinking with their friends on a Friday night, not drink alone in the car talking to a random simp." He said, sounding a little self conscious as he muttered the last word.

Not much she could say to that.

"Look, ill give you a few minutes if you need to get changed, then you can follow my car. Service station about ten miles away, come get a coffee."

She didn't say anything for a moment as he walked away from the car. She opened the window and looked out. He turned around. He was more handsome than she expected, with neat stubble and wind tussled brown hair, probably mid thirties, same as she. "Wait. I can't."

He gave a slight smile. "Take your time."

Any emotion faded from her face and she tried to avoid looking at him. "I mean I really can't. I can't get out of the car."

Drake gave a quizical look and looked at the ground. "That doesn't make sense. But in a way, does explain a lot."

She felt the hot flush of embarrassment saying it out loud. "Yeah. Its been about four months now."

He slowly paced backwards and sat on the bonnet of his car and pulled out a cigarette. "Want one?" He offered.

She shook her head. "No, I don't smoke." She trailed off. "I have my own."

She opened the storage container between the front seats and pulled out the Russian cigarettes she brought the day before, she put one on her mouth and awkwardly tried to light it, before sticking her face out of the window and taking a short drag, without inhaling.

He held his cigarette by his side. "So, what happened then?"

"I don't know. I just drove to work in the morning as usual and then I couldn't open the door."

"Can I try?"

She tensed up a little. "It does open for other people. Just not me."

"So. I could let you out? or is it more complicated than that?"

She took a strong inhale from her cigarette and started coughing.

"I guess not. This is quite strange."

She nodded her head trying to stifle her choking.

"What happens when you try to get out?

She hesitated. "I start shaking, then get sick and I black out."

Drake took a deep inhale. "Have you spoken to a doctor about it?"

Ahe shook her head. "How? They won't believe me "

"Agoraphobia is manageable with medicine these days, isn't it? They'll know what to do."

"It's not in my head, Drake. This is real."

He stammered. "I know it's real, PTSD, stress, all that."

"No, its a stupid curse. Somebody put a curse on me, or on this car, I don't know "

He backed off a little. "Well what have you done to try and lift the curse?"

"Nothing. It's a curse, I can't just wash it away and move on with my life. I wish I could."

"If it's all the same to you, I can try and help, somehow. You really can't spend your life in here."

"Well if you can, then do so."

"Look, maybe you should get dressed and come get a coffee with me somewhere, make yourself feel a bit human again."

She sighed. "Fine."

He pointed to his car. "Ill back out towards the road. Sign said theres a town about twenty miles away."

He walked away and she heard his engine start.

She threw her cigarette out the window without inhaling any more, shuffled around, grabbed a baggy tshirt and her sweatpants and changed as quick as she could.

She gripped the wheel with one hand and put the car into reverse. As she backed out, Drake moved ahead of her and reversed into the road. She followed along.

No radio played during the drove, her head was throbbing and her dry throat was distracting her. Hangover was definitely settling in for the day.

They travelled just below the speed limit around the windong roads, she saw no other oncoming traffic luckily, she worried the road may not be wode enough for two cars to pass.

Shortly the fields turned into houses, the houses turned into shops. Drake turned on his indicator and drove into a petrol station and parked next to an empty space. She pulled up alongside.

The two wound down their windows, she looked at him and started yawning again.

"Americano, then?"

"Sure."