The second my hands hit Sarah's door, I felt it giving under the force of my fall. I tried to recover but I was off balance and the next instant I was stretched out on my stomach. The door was wide open and the sill of the doorway was in my middle."Sarah!" The sodden knit dress was still on the rug but the front room was empty. I jumped to my feet and sprint towards her bedroom.When I got to the doorway of the bedroom I saw her. She was lying on her back on the bed, in the center of the disheveled stack of clothing that she'd wanted to pack. But where she'd gone she wouldn't need any suitcase.There was a nylon stocking around her neck. It had turned her lovely face into a terrible sight. She'd fought her attacker, I could tell, because the hem of her shift had worked itself lip to the juncture of her thighs. Then the thought came to me that her murderer might still be in her apartment. He wasn't.A quick tour proved that there was no one there. Nothing seemed to be disturbed. Her. My car is in the car park" Well, that's too far for you to walk," said Sarah as she helped the man to hisfeet. "You can hardly stand now, let alone drive." Why don't you bring him to our house?" suggested Naomi.Sarah was nearly sick at the very thought. Being five, Naomi didn't have theidea that inviting a stranger home would not be a good idea. The memory of therape, that had created Naomi, was still too fresh in her mind."We can't," Sarah whispered."We did the story of the Good Smarty Man. He helped a stranger."Sarah inwardly smiled at her daughter's naivety and innocence. If only life wasso true. "The man in The Good Samaritan took the injured man to a hotel, nothis home."Naomi didn't say anything. She just held her Mummy's hand and looked helplesslyat the faint outline of the injured man. Sarah was a good person, who justwanted to help. For a fleeting moment that desire to 'do the right thing'overrode her fear."I live just round the corner," said Sarah. "Let's see if we can get.
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