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MISS SHARPE BOUGHT a Gazette and read the front page as she walked towards school.

POLICE WARN AFTER SECOND ‘ET ATTACK

Police have warned that the man responsible for two assaults on lone women in North Devon could ‘go too far’ and commit an even more serious crime.

In terrifying ordeals, the women were made to strip, while being threatened with violence by a man known as the ET attacker, because he makes his victims phone home.

Miss Sharpe took a moment to snort derisively. One man and his dog in the Gazette office might know him as ‘the ET attacker’ but nobody normal ever said rubbish like that.

Neither was physically harmed, but both were left traumatized by the encounter with the man, who wore a black balaclava.

One woman was assaulted on Westward Ho! beach, and the other in woodland near Clovelly.

Detective Chief Inspector Kirsty King who is leading the investigation, told the Gazette, ‘These were disturbing and frightening attacks on young women minding their own business in broad daylight.

‘Thankfully, neither suffered any physical harm, but we are concerned that the nature of the attacks may be escalating, and fear this individual may injure somebody.

‘We would appeal to him to come forward so that he can receive the help he needs before he goes too far.’

Oh yes, thought Miss Sharpe, that’ll happen.

She read on:

‘We would also urge women alone in isolated areas to be aware of potential threats, and not to put themselves in harm’s way.’

Police have described the man as being white, with a local accent, and about six feet tall.

Despite the newspaper hype, the story was disturbing. Miss Sharpe was relieved that she was far too busy to wander about pointlessly on beaches or in woodland, and decided that she’d take a lot more notice of whether her doors were locked at night. It was easy to become casual in the countryside, but she already had a spyhole and never opened the door to anyone she didn’t recognize. Maybe she’d get a chain put on the front door by the local community policing team. She was overthinking things, she knew, but Miss Sharpe’s motto had always been Better safe than sorry.

EEEEEE-ee-ee!

The car screeched to a halt less than two feet from her hip. The yellow bonnet with two broad black stripes running down it sprang back up from the sudden harsh braking.

She’d walked straight out in front of it. Hadn’t even realized she was in the road.

‘Sorry!’ she mouthed. ‘Sorry!’ But the reflection of the sky in the windscreen made it impossible to see whether she was forgiven or not.

She finished crossing and the yellow car swerved noisily around her.

Not forgiven.

Nerves fizzed all over Miss Sharpe’s body. She’d almost been killed! While she was planning her own safe passage through life. One split second of inattention and she could be dead now, or paralysed, seriously injured, lying in the road with two broken legs and tarmac under her cheek.

She started to shake.

It was shock, certainly. But it was also anger at herself. How could she have been so stupid? That wasn’t like her. That was the kind of thing other people did. People who weren’t as cautious; weren’t as clever.

Those were the people who were alive one second and dead the next.

And in the Gazette the day after that.

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