BEFORE I LEFT a gripping psychological thriller full of killer twists

by Daisy White

  “We’re not looking for anyone else in connection with Katie’s murder, but we are possibly looking for someone who was aware of the details of her case.” He looks and sounds as bland as ever. “Don’t forget, if you think of anything, get in touch.”

  I nod, managing to force out a strained smile. We watch Johnnie carefully help Mary out of the car and see her to the door before rushing off again.

  “He’s gone to park the car,” Mary says, flicking an anxious glance towards Eileen and Inspector Hammond. She’s carrying a handful of hospital notes and a white paper bag with a bottle of pills poking out the top. Her hair is tied in an untidy topknot, and her eyes are rimmed with shadow.

  I fling my arms around her, forgetting the police for a second. “I’m so glad you’re fine. But are you really that far along? That means the baby will be here in a few days!”

  “I know! I was so shocked after the examination, but one of the nurses said her cousin didn’t even know she was pregnant until she went into labour! I mean, they said they can’t be exactly sure of the date, but it could any time from now really, and the baby is a big one,” Mary is still pale, but bubbling with excitement. “We need to get organised — apart from the crib I don’t have anything ready.”

  “No wonder you said it was moving around!” I’m not sure it’s a good thing the baby is big. Doesn’t that mean more pain pushing it out?

  The phone rings. Eve and Catherine are clustered round Mary, wanting all the medical details, so I grab the receiver, “Hello, Johnnie’s, Ruby speaking. How may I help you?”

  The caller is there because I can hear breathing, and as my heart starts to thud, louder and harder, I repeat “Hello?.” I try to sound bored, drumming my fingers on the reception desk and pretending to look idly from the window. Just another phone call on just another busy day. The breathing on the other end of the line is slow, controlled, and clearly belongs to someone a whole lot calmer than me.

  “Not having a good day are you, Ruby?” a voice says finally. The strong northern accent grates on my already shredded nerves. “Be careful, but remember I’m watching you too.”

  I’m acutely aware of the police in the corner, Johnnie just about to burst through the door, and my own possible mistakes in the interview earlier. I chirp into the receiver, “Oh don’t worry, Miss Parkinson, the line can be terrible sometimes. I’ll wait for your call next week to rebook you!”

  Done. Luckily Johnnie’s entrance gives me a second to haul myself together. I’m angry now, furious that the watcher, who clearly knows more about my life than I do, and probably knows the police are here, that he can get away with doing this, and that I can’t do a thing about it.

  If it wasn’t for the rings, I would tell the police some man is following me around, making horrid phone calls, but I can still see the bloodied signet ring on my stepdad’s left hand as I flee from the darkened alley, knife in hand, shaking and crying. The watcher was there somehow. And now he is here.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tonight we’re gathering at Black Rock. We meet late, after seven. The kids have gone home, but a few teenage groups are still lounging in deckchairs outside the café, and some athletic old men are swimming lengths.

  The two swimming pools are set on the edge of the sea, and the changing rooms are always freezing, even after the heat of the day. Although I opt to swim in the hope it’ll take my mind off things, I’m still shaken by today’s events.

  The police clearly think they have a killer on their patch. They must have some idea who did it. Perhaps an old boyfriend like Katie’s? Or . . . I don’t know . . . a dodgy family member? Before their murders, nothing seems to tie Linda and Carla, except their party-girl lifestyles. I run my hands through my short hair in an effort to clear my brain, and drag on a pink bikini. It will be good to get in the cool water, and I feel safer around our little group than on my own, or even just with Mary.

  The top and bottoms of my spotted C&A bikini are pleated and the fabric is pretty flimsy, but I’m pleased with the general effect. I may not be as skinny as I’d like, but Pearl has shown me that it isn’t a bad thing to show off a few curves. Mary sticks with her lime green swimsuit, and surveys herself in the long mirror near the showers.

  “I just can’t believe that—”

  “That you’ll have a baby soon!” I beam at her, “I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl? You have such a neat little bump. It looks great in that swimsuit.”

  “It’s going to be hard saving for all the baby things, and then the hospital said to make sure and rest at midday.” Mary frowns. Her glow is fading. She takes an elastic band from her wrist and quickly plaits her blonde hair into a neat braid, coiling the ends under to keep them out of the water.

  “We’ll be okay. Johnnie said he’d still pay you for full days, didn’t he? And I’ll ask Pearl if you can apply for some sort of allowance. You can just keep using your maiden name for any official paperwork until you decide about the divorce. I know that’s going to be difficult so we should just leave things as they are until you have the baby. Don’t you think?”

  She nods, smiling now at her reflection.

  “Don’t you two look gorgeous!” Pearl and Victoria finish rummaging in their bags for towels and join us next to the door.

  “Wow, so do you,” I tell them.

  Victoria is showing off her long legs in a cream bikini. Her blonde hair is swept up and pinned on top of her head. She’s still in full makeup and pretty jewellery — a thin brown leather and gold bracelet, and a little gold chain around her neck.

  “Oh, I hate these stupid metal disc things,” she mutters, fumbling as she tries to pin the number disc on her towel.

  “You won’t get the right pile of clothes back if you lose that, and you don’t want to lose that skirt,” warns Pearl. She has plaited her own red mane, and is displaying impressive cleavage in a brown one-piece. She grins at Mary. “I’m glad you’re okay. Ruby was so excited on the phone! Can we all be godmothers? My God — just three days, do they think? Although you know, the dates might still be a bit wrong. And I think the first baby is supposed to always be late! Are you ready for the birth now?”

  “Nooooo. Not ready and I’m a bit scared now. I thought I had ages to go,” Mary admits, rubbing her belly gently. “They asked me to count through from when my periods started going funny, and when I did the dates made sense. I was really regular before that so I suppose we can be pretty sure the dates are correct. I suppose I wasn’t really thinking properly with all the stuff going on at home,” A shadow crosses her face, but vanishes almost instantly, and the glow returns. “I want to be the best mum I can!”

  “You’ll be a great mum, sweetheart,” Victoria tells her. “And what a load of doting aunties and uncles this baby will have.”

  Mary looks surprised, and a little wary, but I laugh. “Lots of great babysitters waiting and ready for action!”

  My best friend beams again. “I thought you meant . . . but you’re right, this baby is lucky.”

  We head out into the main pool area. Victoria waves at Leon and Johnnie on the deckchairs along the side with their drinks.

  Mary giggles, “He really is sweet, your Leon.”

  “He does have a sort of naughty professor look about him, I suppose,” Pearl muses, with a wicked grin. “What’s he like at . . . well, you know?”

  Victoria rolls her eyes and gasps with the cold as we sit down and slide our legs into the water. She takes a sharp breath and pushes out across the pool, before spinning round and gliding back to us. “For the record, he’s very imaginative,” she says pertly, green eyes sparkling. Then she looks serious. “Actually he’s as perfect as you could wish, but I wish he didn’t take so many pills. Not just party pills but something nearly every day. Still, he doesn’t need much sleep!”

  “Is that a good thing? The lack of sleep, not the pills. I know a few of the medical students pop quite a few to stay awake while they’re studying, so I wouldn’t worry too much
.” Pearl inches into the pool, visibly holding her breath as water reaches her stomach. “Hell! How can it be this cold? Maybe I should just sit in the café with the boys.”

  “Weaklings! Come on, you lazy lot, we’ve only got an hour before they close!” Victoria solves her friend’s dilemma by sending a small tidal wave over all three of us and kicking her legs until we’re soaked and shouting at her to stop. I dive underwater to avoid the chaos, holding my breath for as long as I can. It’s nice to be alone with the muffled thump of my own heart, and the weightless feeling surrounding my tired body.

  After a few half-hearted lengths and lots of chat, we lounge, waist deep, trying to warm our shoulders and backs. The sun sinks low in the sky, a last spark burning a trail across the darkening sea. The café staff have started clearing away.

  I’m on my last length, sliding through the water with one eye out for James and Kenny who promised to join us but have failed to show, when I spot him.

  He’s behind the diving board, in the shadows next to the concrete changing block. He is smoking again, and watching me with a kind of lazy appreciation. I stop in the deep end, treading water. I look back at my friends laughing and shivering. Friends who I could call on at any second. Johnnie and Leon haven’t undressed. They could just jump over the low wall and find out who this lunatic is . . .

  But I don’t call out, despite an almost paralysing terror at seeing my tormentor so close. Because this time I can make out features — familiar dark eyes, narrowed against the blue twist of cigarette smoke, tousled dark hair, and pale skin with a shadow of stubble along his sharp jawbone.

  * * *

  “You okay, Ruby?” Johnnie asks as we wander back along the seafront, enjoying that beautiful twilight time between sun and stars.

  “Fine. Yes, sorry.”

  “Well, I have news about Linda,” Johnnie says.

  Leon looks up from murmuring to Victoria. “You have? Something that might help find her killer?”

  “Maybe. I ran into her brother Larry at the ice-cream shop earlier, and he said she had started seeing someone fairly recently. Not only that, but when they all got home after the picnic, she said she’d left something at Glebe House and was going to try and find out if anyone had picked it up. Harry couldn’t remember what but he thought she might have said it was her necklace.” Johnnie pauses. He looks like a cat ready to pounce.

  “But I was the one who forgot something! My purse!” I exclaim, jolted and confused by this new information. “The police handed mine back. They never said they found anything else — oh!”

  “They found a locket,” Mary says quietly. She looks at me, but I nod and she continues. “When they gave Ruby’s purse back, it had a locket inside. We told them it wasn’t ours, but they were sure it had been found inside her purse. We thought maybe it was found in the grass, and one of the other girls picked it up and thought it was Ruby’s.”

  Johnnie nods grimly, “But Linda had that new gold-and-white thing on, didn’t she? It wasn’t a locket.”

  “She never said anything about a new man. In fact I was sure that Ted was actually getting somewhere at long last.” Victoria takes a last puff of her cigarette before grinding the butt neatly under her heel.

  “I didn’t really know her of course, but surely as your friend Linda would have told you about a new love interest? I mean—” Leon looks slightly embarrassed — “Girls love to gossip about that kind of thing, don’t they?”

  Victoria hits him on the arm, “You make us sound like we have nothing else to think about!”

  “Sorry, darling, you know unless it died at least a hundred years ago it doesn’t figure on my radar!”

  “He’s right, though. She would have done. Great gossip, was our Linda. Oh, anyone fancy a hotdog?” Pearl rummages in her bag for change. We can never resist the glass counter at O’Hagen’s. As we stand in the queue, I consider this new information. It makes sense that Linda went back out on purpose, that she sneaked out to see some new boyfriend. Maybe he was married. That’s the only reason I wouldn’t tell the others about a new love interest. But then I hope I wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for a married man in the first place.

  “So Victoria tells me the baby is due in a couple of days? How exciting. I’m sure there will be lots of competition among the godparents.” Leon beams at Mary. “I have five sisters, and the youngest was born when I was fifteen, so I have excellent childminding credentials if you ever need help.”

  “Thank you, that is so kind of you. I’ll hold you to that! And well . . . if the dates are right, yes, much sooner than expected.” Mary smiles back at him. Her short dress skims her tiny bump and shows off long tanned legs.

  The lost necklace? The lost locket? I’m not sure how that fits in at all. I can tell Mary wants to share the watcher with our friends, but I’m still reluctant. It’s too close to Croydon, and to our past.

  The queues shuffle forwards under the brightly painted boards. There’s blue writing for the fish and chips, red swirly letters for cockles and mussels, or yellow for Lyons ice cream. I see my stepdad’s brown eyes in everyone lining up to get their dinner, both men and women. His face was usually red, and scrunched with fury, but occasionally — when he was in a good mood, or there were other people around — he put on a show. His brown pupils had an amber ring round them, making him look quite like a jungle-cat, and he had very dark lashes. The combination was both attractive and disturbing.

  I can see why Mum fell for him, but not why she didn’t have the guts to pack up and go when she discovered what he was really like. I suppose he’d been chipping away for years at whatever little confidence she’d once possessed. I can sort of remember that every time he said something nice, he’d follow it with something nasty, just so she’d glow with happiness for a minute, then sag like a pricked balloon the next.

  A couple of motorbikes roar past. The riders wear studded leather, and the girls ride pillion on the back with their long hair streaming out behind them. They make a couple of rude hand gestures. A group of suited Mods queuing for fish and chips at the next counter start yelling insults back.

  Eventually, clutching our dinner in folds of newspaper, we split up. Mary and I are going to obey her doctor’s orders for an early night, Victoria and Leon are going to the Starlight Rooms, and Pearl is taking Johnnie to a house party near the Bedford.

  “Hey, Kenny and James never showed up!” Mary says suddenly, as we reach our little side door on Ship Street.

  “I expect they’re busy writing the story for tomorrow. I wonder if they know about the secret boyfriend theory.” I lock the door behind us when we’re safely though.

  Mary walks slowly up the stairs. “I’d rather it was some love triangle than the witchcraft idea. That really spooks me.”

  “It seems to have spooked everyone in new houses as well. Mrs Shorton was telling me today that her husband works for Ridgeway’s — you know, the developer who’s building the new estates near Glebe House. Apparently they had waiting lists for properties up there, and now people are ringing up and asking to go on the list for an estate in Hastings!”

  I heat up some milk for Mary and make tea for me, “How many of those pills do you have to take?”

  She pulls a face. “Two at night, and then two pink ones and one white one in the morning. With milk or water.”

  “Well, I can’t see the doctor saying wash it down with a glass of beer,” I point out cheerfully. “You’re a responsible expectant mother now. Hell, you could have the baby tonight!”

  “Shut up!” Mary props herself up on her bed with her pillow behind her back. “I’m so excited. Scared, but really excited.”

  “It’s going to be amazing,” I tell her, scoffing the last of my chips and dipping a greasy finger into the corner of my paper cone to get the last of the salt grains.

  Our windows frame the velvety black of the night sky, and show a little half-moon hanging out over the sea. It should be the best feeling ever, to be safe in
the little white-painted bedsit with my best friend. But I don’t feel safe anymore. I know he’s out there among the shadows, and I know now that I was right. It’s personal.

  Add that to a killer with a penchant for party girls, and the city by the sea becomes a dangerous place to live.

  Chapter Fifteen

  BRIGHTON KILLER STRIKES AGAIN

  Carla Wilkinson, aged 19, from Hillsdown Road in Hastings, may have become the third victim of the man police are terming ‘a possible serial killer.’ Miss Wilkinson’s body was found at Glebe House yesterday morning by local dog walker Andrew Jackson.

  Mr Jackson told our reporter that he found Miss Wilkinson tied to the infamous Witch Stone, which locals are now dubbing, ‘The Killing Stone,’ at around 5am. “At first I thought she was still alive, but then I realised she was tied to the stone, and it looked like she was sitting upright. I did see a couple of other men out walking, but nobody near the body. It was shocking, and my heart goes out to her family.”

  A source tells us that police are investigating several leads, including the possibility that both victims were members of a local group of girls with an interest in witchcraft, in particular the life and death of Lady Isabella Gordon. The case of Katie Simmons, whose battered body was discovered in the same location last year, has been reopened after new evidence suggests that suicide victim Terence Jacks was not the perpetrator of the crime. Local girl Linda Beeston was also found murdered last week in exactly the same spot.

  Green Ridges resident Sarah Tomes told us she had recently moved to the area, but is now, “living in fear” after the recent spate of murders. Her neighbours, who prefer not to be named, added, “We don’t let our girls go out at night now. It must be obvious to the police that there is a serial killer on the loose, but we haven’t seen any more of them around town. Everyone is scared.”

  While the council is likely to make a final decision on the redevelopment of the remaining land at Glebe House next week, developers Ridgeway’s declined to comment on reports that buyers are staying away from the area.