CHAPTER 33
Stalker
You’re getting too close, you’re not meant to be this smart.
You’re meant to sip Pimm’s in your garden and pout at your doting husband and turn up to galas in expensive dresses and donate such a small amount of money that it barely makes a dent in your life and think about nothing but yourself while I tear you down.
You’re not meant to do this.
Jude’s car is the only one on the lot alongside Anya’s. I’ve kept tabs on her too, you know? I twist the wheel on the binoculars, bringing you and Jude into focus. Do you both know?
You might be smart, but you’re nothing but a liar and a cheat.
You’re a killer. You’d do anything to get what you want.
I should have always played with that in mind.
After a few minutes, Jude’s reverse lights come on, and we’re on the move.
The drive back is long and dark, the car filling up with my laboured breathing.
What did Anya tell you? I should have bugged Jude’s car, too.
You’re looking for Genie now, which will inevitably lead you to a dead end, but it might give you more information on me.
We can’t have that. Our cars soon become the only ones on the winding country lanes, and you both barely notice.
“Yeah?” His voice fills the speakers after two rings.
“Where are you?” I ask, and I can hear the exasperated sigh that follows my question. My grip tightens. Do you know how frustrating such ignorance is? There’s never any gratitude with this man, and if he didn’t have what I needed, I would have got rid of him a long time ago.
“Your place.” That’s where he’s hiding out. “But I have to get back to the house.”
My jaw clenches. There’s always an excuse with this man.
“Is the house ready?” I ask because if I am running out of time, I’d better strike while I can.
“Yes and no. I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he says. There’s a clicking in the distance. What is that?
“I don’t pay you to think,” I snap, my eyes darting behind me. Is someone following us?
I turn the corner.
He coughs. “Well, yeah. The house is ready, I’ll leave the keys out for you.”
“Good,” I say. “If you need a place to hide out for a bit longer, then you can use the outhouse.”
It’s a pointless gesture of goodwill. We both know he’s staying. I need his help, and he has nowhere else to go.
“Thanks,” he says. The infernal clicking continues.
Jude and I come to a crossroads of a busy main road. Jude manages to jump out, her car drives across the intersection while I sit with my foot on the brake, waiting. Jude disappears through the junction. I’m going to lose you.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier.” His voice vibrates from the speakers. This man loves the sound of his own voice.
My foot taps on the gas, waiting for leisurely drivers to remember where they want to go.
Jesus, hurry up.
“And I think you’re right,” he says.
I slam my foot onto the gas at the slightest break in traffic, my tyres screeching as I make up the distance. Two cars ahead, I spot you.
“What?” I suck in air through my lips.
I trail you, close enough to see you but not close enough to do any damage. Fate is always on your side, eh?
“The other night, you said she’d only learn when she’s dead, and I think you’re right. She killed Henry, didn’t she?” He says it with that juvenile voice that makes my teeth grind.
“Yes,” I sigh, turning the corner. The less he knows, the better.
“I knew it. This isn’t enough.” There’s anger in his voice.
“You’ve changed your tune.” I’m sarcastic because I have to be. He’s always played the mightier-than-thou card when he’s the one who loves to get his hands dirty.
There’s a muffled sound of breathing through the speaker. “I was wrong.”
My knuckles whiten. This, my dear Elsie, is a change of tune for our boy. Oh, how he loved you at the start.
“I know,” I say.
“I–I heard her wedding might be back on,” he says, and that catches something in my throat.
I say goodbye then, pretending that driving and talking are too distracting.
But I need to think. You have everyone in the village wrapped around your little finger and I can’t find why.
I tried to, God, did I? I watched you until my eyes ached with tiredness, and I still couldn’t see what they did.
My foot presses hard on the gas, the speedometer climbing higher.
The final car between us turns down a small lane, and I find myself pushing closer to you.
That’s the thing about you, you’re always getting your way.
And if you know about Genie, then you will soon know about me, which means my time is running out.
My hands twist at the wheel, and I push my foot flat; the turbo kicks in and rams me forward.
I brace myself, knowing that at this speed I’ll smash into you in a second, but I need a bend in the road to do some real damage.
And God graces me with one.
Just as you turn, I accelerate, pushing the bulk of my car into yours so that it clips the side.
It’s not enough, but it wobbles you. I accelerate more, ramming the grille of my car into your bumper.
I’m bigger, stronger and faster than you, and your car buckles, swerving.
The roads twist, and you can’t quite keep yourself steady, and the last thing I see is your car veering into a ditch.
My breathing is ragged and loud. A laugh rips through the empty space of the car as I slow down. I won’t stop to help you. Hopefully your skull was crushed on impact, and the last thing you think is, But why me?
Huh? Ella, why you?
You need to have worked it out by now.