Chapter 10 #3
I feel nothing but a pang of homesickness as I open the door to the balcony and step out, peering down at the communal lawn outside, and at the river beyond.
I stare at the patio, where I lay for hours before Leo came home and found me, but all I feel is sadness that it happened.
There’s no flashback, no hidden memory returning to haunt me.
But as I turn to go back inside, a chill runs through me, despite the intense heat.
‘Are you okay?’ Johnny asks.
‘Can I just sit for a minute? I’m sure it’s nothing. It wasn’t a flashback. I think I’ve been told about my attack so many times it’s made me feel a bit strange being here. Especially out there.’ I gesture to the balcony.
‘That’s understandable. I’ll get you some water.’
‘No, honestly, I’m fine.’
I sit on the leather sofa, and Johnny does the same. ‘It’s good to see you,’ he says.
‘How’s work going?’ I ask. ‘Such a great move to join a tech start-up.’
‘Yeah, I guess. I do wonder sometimes. But I have high hopes for it, and it’s growing by the week.’
‘Do you mind if I ask you something tech-related?’
‘’Course not. You know what a geek I am.’
‘I was just wondering . . . if I was sent a fake video from someone—’
‘You mean you have been sent a fake video?’ Johnny raises his eyebrows.
I can’t help but smile. ‘Yeah, okay. I have. Someone trolling me, probably. But would you know how to trace who sent it? The sender deleted it as soon as I’d seen it.
I’ve got the number from WhatsApp, but it’s disconnected.
But would you know how to trace who it was sent from? And retrieve the video?’
Johnny considers my request for a moment. ‘Um, maybe. But it’s a long shot. And you’d have to leave your phone with me. I might be able to retrieve the video, but it could take a while.’
My pulse races – finally I might be getting somewhere.
‘I can live without my phone for a little while,’ I say.
‘I’ll put a new SIM card in an old phone and use that until I get it back.
’ As I say this, I feel a wrench, something holding me back, resisting handing it over.
But alongside it is the overwhelming sense that, without it, I will at least be free of the messages.
Johnny nods. ‘Okay, if you’re sure.’
‘And I’ll pay you for your time.’
‘No, you won’t. I’m happy to help a friend out.’
‘Thank you, Johnny. I really appreciate this.’ I hand him my phone and tell him the passcode, silently deciding to let him off a month’s rent at least. ‘I’ll message you my new number when I get it. I’d better get back now. Surrey’s a bit of a trek from here.’
At the door, I hesitate. ‘I need to warn you, Johnny. If you manage to find the video . . . it’s not pretty. It shows me being attacked by someone. And . . . left for dead.’
His mouth hangs open. ‘Jeez. What kind of people do stuff like that?’
‘That’s what I’m hoping to find out. With your help.’
For the rest of the day, I avoid going home. I buy a SIM card, then spend a few hours in Hyde Park, finishing the book I started but couldn’t focus on at Silverleaf Heights. And when the heat gets too much to bear, I make my way to Waterloo station.
When I get back to Silverleaf, I half expect the code not to work when I key it in – perhaps part of me hopes it won’t – but the gate clinks open.
Nobody is around as I walk along the path to our house, but I’m sure, somewhere, someone is watching. All the neighbours’ cars are in their driveways – only Leo’s is absent. It would be easy to assume he’s avoiding me, but him being late home isn’t unusual.
The house feels cool when I step inside. It’s also too dark, which is strange when it’s still light outside.
It’s only a moment before I realise why – all the blinds downstairs are closed, even the ones over the bifold doors in the kitchen.
On alert, I stand still and listen out. But everything is silent.
Tentatively I make my way to the kitchen.
I know I didn’t close any of the blinds before I left this morning, so Leo must have come back and gone out again.
I find my old phone in a kitchen drawer and put in the new SIM card.
As soon as it’s ready, I message Leo and tell him I’ve lost my phone and had to get a new SIM.
I don’t want to tell him I’ve left it with Johnny; it will only cast more shade on my actions in Leo’s eyes.
Especially when it might not come to anything.
Then I ask him if he pulled all the blinds down.
It’s the same upstairs: all the rooms are bathed in darkness. And as I make my way to our bedroom, I’m overcome with the feeling that this doesn’t feel like something Leo would do, even if he was spending the day at home. He loves brightness and would never block out natural light.
Reaching our bedroom, I freeze when I see the scene before me. A row of lit candles flickers on the windowsill and on my chest of drawers, their golden flames dancing in the darkness.
This wasn’t Leo.
Someone’s been in our house.