The five of us met on the steps of the courthouse, then went inside and up to the second floor. We found the correct courtroom where Liz, Paul, and two other couples were waiting.“Hi, Mom,” I said with a silly grin.She looked up and went just as wide-eyed as Clarissa had been in the parking lot.“Peter?!” Mom gasped.“DAD?!” Liz squealed, hurrying over.“Hi,” he said sheepishly.“What did Mike say?” Mom asked.“A lot,” Dad said with a smile, “but it was one word from Elizaveta that changed my mind. She called me ‘Dad’.”I left them and moved a few paces to where Paul was sitting.“I don’t know how you did it,” he said. “But thanks.”“You’re welcome. You only get one chance here, I hope you realize.”“Got any advice?”“If my dad wants to dress you down for your behavior in the past, allow him to do it. Take it like a man and admit your mistakes. Then tell him you love Liz and you’ll never ever do anything to hurt her.”Paul nodded and pulled a slip of paper in a piece of clear plastic used for. My decision was spur of the moment; later ... well "blood ran cold" sums up the feeling — he could have taken back roads out of the town and I'd have lost him. But I don't think he recognised me when he appeared in my rear-view mirror. I fumbled left-handed with the phone, shut off Jenni's call and speed-dialled Jessica. I was right; Donna had been knocked down and Jenni snatched as they walked into the carpark to wait for us by the café. She'd called the Police and given them my mobile number. Good enough; I hung up. Only to have the phone ring again. The caller identified himself as a Police officer by name and number, though I wasn't really taking note, and told me they had enough basic information and to just keep up a running commentary as best I could so they knew where I was. The Golf passed me, but was now keeping to 70 or so; presumably to avoid attention. I kept it in sight over the Orwell Bridge and saw it turn off onto the A137 slip-road. I closed up a bit as I didn't.
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