Chapter Forty-Two
‘You’re late,’ said Leslie, as I crashed into the office. ‘And where’s Lisa?’
Since moving in with my bestie, she and I had taken it in turns to share the drive from Longfield to Meopham. However, thanks to Juan, that wasn’t the case today.
The brief commute to work had been even more appalling due to a motorist getting in a row with a cyclist. The screaming match that had subsequently taken place had blocked vehicles and caused a cacophony of blaring horns. Consequently, several motorists had joined in the argument. One had been an old boy. He’d intimidated a female driver by aiming his walking stick like a hitman at target practice.
By this point I’d had my window down, eavesdropping on the fracas. Eventually an irate lorry driver had telephoned the boys in blue. I’d overheard him ranting on the phone.
‘Stop hiding in the bushes at Kings Hill with your speed cameras and get over here. There are several people calling each other Jesus Christ , plus a pensioner impersonating Basil Fawlty. He’s insisting everyone’s cars are going to have a damn good thrashing .
‘The traffic was mental this morning,’ I said breathlessly.
I hastened over to my desk, shrugging off my coat enroute. I was aware of Leslie’s eyes following me. His inbuilt lie detector was boring into my back. I slung my jacket over the chair and chucked my handbag under the desk. Leaning over the keyboard, I flipped the switch on my monitor.
‘Also’ – I quavered – ‘Lisa overslept. But she’ll be here shortly.’
Leslie made a harrumphing sound.
‘How is it that some of my employees live miles away but manage to get here before the two members of staff that only live in the next village?’
‘They obviously managed to dodge the mayhem,’ I gulped, flopping down on my seat. ‘Lisa and I aren’t often late.’ I entered my login code. ‘Can I make you a nice cup of coffee, Leslie?’
Personally, I was gasping and – thanks to last night’s sleep being on the sparse side – caffeine was necessary. And if my boss had a couple of handy matchsticks to prop up my eyelids, that would be even better.
‘I’ve already had a drink,’ said Leslie. ‘Anyway, I’m going out. I’ll be back after lunch. Appointments,’ he added by way of explanation. ‘Hopefully Lisa will be here before my return.’
He flashed me a meaningful look. One that conveyed he wasn’t stupid and, traffic issues aside, I’d failed the lie detector test.
As soon as he’d left, I sent Lisa a text relaying the same, and asked her to let Cindy out again before she left the maisonette.
She turned up just after eleven, looking sexually sated but also puffy-eyed from crying.
‘How am I going to get through the next few days without Juan,’ she groaned, collapsing over her keyboard. Her head shot up when Leslie unexpectedly came through the door.
‘You’re back early,’ I twittered, wondering if he’d copped Lisa’s arrival seconds earlier.
‘Forgot some papers,’ he explained curtly. Leslie glared at Lisa. She was now pounding her keyboard. ‘Good afternoon ,’ he said pointedly.
‘Now, now, Leslie.’ Lisa paused from her typing. Gave him a winning smile. ‘I wasn’t that late this morning.’
‘You’re still half asleep though,’ he grunted. ‘You might want to check your typing. After all, you haven’t switched on your monitor. I suggest you work your lunch hour to make up the lost time.’
‘Fuckity-fuck,’ Lisa hissed as Leslie stalked off.
‘Nice try,’ I giggled, just as the phone rang. ‘Home and Hearth Estate Agents. How can I help you?’
‘Er, is that Tilly Thomas?’ said a male voice.
‘Speaking,’ I confirmed.
And then the line went dead.
‘Strange,’ I said, hanging up.
My thoughts fragmented as the phone rang again, this time with a different caller. Lisa and I kept our heads down. The office was unusually busy today and the phone rang nonstop.
By lunchtime, Lisa and I were still flat out. I abandoned the original plan of spending the lunch hour loading up Octavia with my belongings. I’d now have to do that after work instead. I knew Cindy wouldn’t be cross-legged thanks to Lisa letting her out.
I glanced over at my bestie. She caught my eye. I mimed if she wanted me to get her a sandwich to eat at her desk. She nodded.
I stood up, shimmied into my jacket and reached for my handbag. As I walked towards the main door, a pair of familiar legs were visible behind the window display. I yanked the door open, and the rest of the person came into view. It was the young man Lisa had previously caught staring at me. This time he was supposedly studying properties for let. As I stepped onto the pavement, he looked my way.
‘Hello,’ I said automatically.
‘Hi,’ he replied warily.
I felt a frisson of anxiety. After all, this was a man who frequently swung past my workplace, stared at me working within, made out to be looking at the window display, but never ventured inside. Was he like one of those yobs I’d seen on that street corner?
However, this guy wasn’t a teenager. So maybe unlikely. Even so, he made me feel uneasy. Had he seen me driving Octavia about? My bright orange Fiat did rather stand out. Had he targeted me?
Ah ha! There goes that woman from Home and Hearth Estate Agents. I now know that she’s single and likely vulnerable. All I need do is bide my time. Plan the right moment. Then grab her handbag and run .
What did the police advise when it came to dealing with a wannabe mugger? Challenge the person? Let them know that you were on to them? Or run like the clappers in the opposite direction? I didn’t have a clue. Nonetheless I felt compelled to call this guy out. To let him know I was on to him. Knew his game.
I gripped my bag tightly and looked him in the eye.
‘Not yet found a house?’ I challenged. My voice sounded harsh, and my gaze was unwavering.
‘Er, no. Actually… I’m not looking for a property,’ he confessed.
‘Indeed,’ I jeered. Blimey, he wasn’t even going to bluff about his loitering. My eyes narrowed. Two slits of icy flint. ‘So, what are you doing outside my place of work?’ I demanded.
‘Well…’ he began, then trailed off.
It came to me that his voice sounded familiar, although I couldn’t initially place it. And then I twigged. I’d heard him speak earlier. That dropped phone call.
‘Is that Tilly Thomas?’
And then the line had gone dead.
Omigod. This man was a stalker in the true sense of the word. Not content to mooching around outside my place of work, now he was ringing me up too. The question was… why?’
When I next spoke, my voice was like a pistol shot.
‘What do you really want?’ I scowled.
‘To talk to you,’ he said simply.
My nostrils flared. Dear God. This guy wasn’t even going to deny he’d been trailing me.
‘You called me this morning,’ I accused. ‘And then you hung up.’
‘I did,’ he said softly.
My free hand began to pat-pat behind my back. Where was the shop’s door handle? It was suddenly of vital importance to be back inside the office. Surrounded by other people. Preferably with a few handy monitors to lob at this man who, even now, was advancing towards me.