Writing for Fun
May 2017
M25 - Anna Browning
'Hurry up Laura, aren't you ready yet? For goodness sake, we are going to be late at this rate. We haven't allowed ourselves enough time as it is.'
'Stop panicking Jim, I was just checking I hadn't forgotten anything. I've got the present and my overnight bag. Have you got your hearing aid and your glasses?'
'Of course I have, now hurry up and get in the car. We will be stuck in traffic on the M25 if we leave it any later,' grumbled Jim.
Laura finally got into the car and they sped off towards the motorway. 'I am so looking forward to seeing Jen and Rob finally getting married. They have had so many ups and downs, it will be great to see them settled.'
'Yes,' nodded Jim, concentrating on the traffic as he joined the never-ending queue of cars massing on the motorway. He settled down to the monotony of driving in the congested traffic and Laura snuggled down and drifted off to sleep, feeling warm and snug. Jim found a slot and moved over to the middle lane just managing to fit into the narrow space. He fumbled with the brake as the car behind sounded it's horn angrily. He glanced in the mirror wondering why they were doing that, after all he wasn't doing anything wrong. Perhaps the driver had got out of the wrong side of bed.
He looked over at Laura but she was snoring gently, oblivious to the outside world. He relaxed his shoulders and concentrated on the journey ahead wishing he was nearly there but there were miles to go yet. He looked over at the outside lane which seemed less congested and signalled to move over into it. As he did so the car behind also moved over as well, hardly leaving any space. He stared at the car uneasily. The black tinted windows of the car stared back ominously giving no clue to the driver's identity, keeping Jim wildly guessing who the faceless driver could be. A gangster? a psychopath maybe? Jim turned the radio on hoping the music would help sooth his jangled nerves. I hate long journeys. I'm getting too old for all this stress.
A horn sounded behind him. He looked up, feeling a nudge on his back bumper. What the hell is that? as he looked in his mirror. But the car behind was now a few feet away. He must have imagined it. Jim pressed his foot down on the accelerator and sped forward, then moved back into the middle lane. He sighed with relief when he glanced in the mirror and saw the black Range rover was no longer in sight. Thank God, he thought to himself. The turn off would be approaching shortly, so he moved over into the near side lane.
A shadow moved over past his car. When he looked up he saw the black Range Rover drive by. Oh no, don't say I still haven't shaken them off. He started to signal, preparing to leave the motorway, to now find himself driving behind the Range Rover in the same direction. Jim continued driving behind them at a moderate speed. Suddenly the Range Rover slowed down drastically, forcing Jim to slam on his brakes. The sweat was now pouring down his face. He nervously moistened his dry lips with his tongue. What game are they playing at, Jim thought angrily.
He decided to overtake them and put some distance between them. But he could not shake them off. The car was still hanging on his tail. Oh God what am I going to do ! This time he felt another nudge and now the car was right up close to his bumper. He sounded his horn loudly and pressed his foot down even harder. His shirt collar was now soaked through and feeling clammy next to his skin. He looked at his sat nav and saw the hotel was only a couple of miles up the road. The Range Rover was now overtaking again and slowing up forcing Jim to do the same. Jim's hands trembled with fear barely controlling the wheel.
He noticed one of the Range-rover backside windows sliding open and a long round metal object protruding out. What the hell is that? thought Jim, is that what I think it is, a rifle? He revved his engine and sped forward. The hotel wasn't far now, he might just make it.
There it was, a picture postcard timber framed house, with roses rambling around the entrance. He drove into the drive and parked up. He got out of his car and stood up leaning shakily against the car, wondering what was going to happen next. The Range Rover slid into the car space next to him. The driver door opened Jim closed his eyes expecting the end when he heard a familiar voice shout out, 'Uncle Jim, I thought that was you. Jim opened his eyes and saw his niece Stacey smiling at him, and her three sons getting out of the back seats, all arguing and shouting at each other. Jim noticed one of the lads was holding a toy rifle. Phew, he closed his eyes again this time with relief. Then he opened them and shouted out, 'What the hell do you think you were playing at Stacey? You bloody well frightened the life out of me. I nearly had a heart attack. Are you mad? The way you kept nudging my bumper. I thought you was a criminal trying to kill me.'
'Sorry Uncle Jim. I did take my eyes off the road when I kept turning round to tell the boys off. I could have murdered them. The way they kept playing me up. They know I'm a nervous driver.'
'I thought I was being chased by an armed gang, when that rifle poked out of the back window.'
'I'm so sorry Uncle Jim,' Stacey apologised as she clouted the boys around their heads, screaming at them. Laura meanwhile woke up at the din and got out of the car. 'Have we arrived Jim? I have had such a lovely sleep. I feel so relaxed and chilled. I am now ready to face the wedding madness.'
Jim couldn't believe his eyes and ears at what he had just experienced. 'I think I have been watching too many thrillers.' Bloody women! he laughed to himself. 'Come on Laura, I think I deserve a strong drink after the journey from hell.' They put their arms through each other and headed off to the hotel reception room.