by Natalie Shaw
“Jackie?”
My heart sank.
“Michael? I didn't recognise your number.”
“I've changed contracts. Got myself a new IPhone. Great offer—couldn't resist.”
“That's nice.” I tried, but failed, to sound like I gave a shit.
“I called in the shop, but you weren't there.”
“That's cos I'm here,” I said. How rude did I have to be before he got the message?
“Yeah.” He laughed his stupid laugh. It was one of the things I'd grown to hate about him—trust me, there were many others.
Michael had been a mistake. I blamed Candice. In a moment of weakness I'd allowed her to talk me into going on a blind date. I still hadn't forgiven her.
“I wondered if you might like to go out for a drink tonight?” he said. “Or tomorrow, if you're busy.”
“I don't think that would be a good idea,” I said.
“Oh” I could hear the disappointment in his voice. I really thought he'd got the message the last time he'd contacted me. I realised now that subtle wasn't going to cut it.
“I'm sorry, Michael. You and I—it's not going to work out.”
“But...”
“I'd prefer it if you didn't contact me again.”
“Oh?”
“Sorry. Bye.” I ended the call and wondered when I'd become such a bitch. Still, what was it they said? Cruel to be kind?
The phone rang again. Okay—the gloves were off now. I was going to have to be even more blunt. “Michael. I told you I didn't want you to call me again. Now, fuck off!”
“Hello.” The voice wasn't Michael's.
I slumped onto the sofa. It took me a few moments to compose myself. “Mr Craven?”
“You recognise my voice.”
“How did you get my number? Why are you calling my personal mobile?”
“I apologise for the intrusion, but it's essential I meet with you as soon as possible.”
“I'm not working today. I have a couple of day’s holiday. If you call into the shop, I'm sure one of the other staff will be able to help...”
“This is a personal matter.”
“I'm sorry. I can't meet with you. I have to hang up now.”
“Wait. Do you know the name Louise?”
I tried to speak, but words had deserted me. This made no sense. How could he know about the name in my dream? How had he found my number? My breathing was laboured, and I felt a little light-headed.
“Sorry,” I eventually managed to say. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
My finger was hovering over the 'End call' button.
“I think you do, Louise.”
“Why did you call me that?”
“Can we meet?”
“I asked why you called me Louise! Tell me!”
“I will. I promise to explain everything, but not on the phone. Can I come around...?”
“No! Don't come here or I'll call the police.”
“Okay. Sorry. Can we meet somewhere more public? A coffee shop maybe?”
I hesitated. I had to know how he knew about my dreams.
“Do you know The Bean Mill? It's just off the high street.”
“I'll find it. When?”
“One o' clock.”
“Okay...”
I hung up.
Chapter 2
My hands were trembling. What was happening? Who was Craven, and what did he want with me? He'd called me Louise—what was that all about? Maybe he'd mistaken me for someone else. Perhaps I had a doppelganger out there somewhere. That must be it. But that didn't explain why he'd been in my dreams or why I'd heard the name Louise in my dreams. There was another more obvious explanation—one which I was doing my best to ignore. What if he did actually know me? What if he'd known me from before?
Immediately after my incident, I'd almost driven myself insane—trying to remember who I was. The doctors had told me that my memory might return, but it could take months, years, and may never come back at all. Over the years, I'd come to accept it never would. My 'before' life had gone for good. I'd come to realise that I had to make the most of now or I'd spend my whole time looking back—wondering. But maybe, just maybe, Craven did know me. If he did then I owed it to myself to talk to him. Besides, he'd been following me for days—at work and at Destiny. He wasn't about to let it go.
The door opened—scaring me half to death.
“I told them at work that I was feeling ill,” Alison said.
“You don't look ill. Are you?”
“Course not.” She grinned. “Just bored out of my tiny skull. Anyway, why should I have to work when you're skiving?”
“I'm not skiving. I'm on holiday.”
“Same difference. I thought we could do some serious shopping.”
“I can't.”
“Course you can—grab your bag. We'll go for a drink first.”
“I can't. I'm meeting someone.”
“Who? Have you gone and got yourself a fella?”
“No.”
“You have! You sly cow. Why didn't you tell me? You've not got back with that loser Michael have you?”
Alison had never liked him.
“No. It's not Michael.”
“Who then? You may as well tell me or I'll follow you and find out.”
I knew she would.
“Craven.”
“What? The guy who's been stalking you?”
“He hasn't been stalking me—not exactly.”
“Why are you meeting him?”
“He called me. We're just having coffee.”
“He could be a serial killer.”
“Don't be daft. Anyway, there'll be plenty of people around. We're meeting in Bean Mill.”
As soon as I'd said it, I regretted it.
“Bean Mill? Hmmm.” Alison had a stupid grin on her face.
“No. Definitely not!” I shook my head. “No, no, no!”
“What?”
“You can't come.”
“It'll be safer if I keep an eye on you. I'll be discreet.”
“You? Discreet?” I snorted. “Some chance.”
“Hey, I can do discreet. I'll keep my distance and observe. If he tries any funny business, I'll Mace his arse. Or his eyes. Probably his eyes would be best.”
Arguing with Alison would be pointless, and anyway, I liked the idea that someone would have my back.
“Is he in there?” Alison had her nose pressed against the large front window of Bean Mill.
“Is this is your idea of discreet?” I pulled her away, and then, as casually as I could, I glanced inside.
“He's over there.”
“Where?”
“Over there—near the loo. You wait here until I'm at his table.”
“Okay.”
“Don't sit too close to us.”
“Okay! Okay! Go! Go! Before he gets fed up of waiting.”
Craven already had a drink, so I stopped at the counter and ordered myself a Latte. While I was waiting to be served, I glanced over my shoulder to find him staring straight at me.
He stood up as I approached his table.
“What's this all about?” I said, as I took the seat opposite him.
He didn't speak; he appeared lost in thought.
“Why did you want to meet? I can't stay long.”
“Sorry. I was miles away. Thank you for coming.”
“Why have you been following me for the last few days?”
He smiled.
“What's so funny?” I said a little louder than I'd intended.
“'I'm sorry.” He bowed his head. “It's just that—”
“What?”
“I've been following you for much longer than a few days.”
“Why? And why did you call me Louise?”
“Look into my eyes,” he said, and put his hand on my wrist. The moment he touched me, I felt it. A surge of energy rushed through my body. I stared into his eyes, and felt as though I was being drawn into their depth
s. Focus! I had to focus. I pulled my hand away.
“Did you see?” he asked.
“See? See what?”
He looked disappointed.
“Do you know me?” I asked. “From before my accident?”
“Yes.”
“How? How do you know me?”
“It's complicated.”
“No shit. Just tell me!”
“We were...” He hesitated.
“What?”
“You were my mate. You are still my mate.”
“Mate? Do you mean friend? We were friends?”
“No. Much more than friends. We were a mated pair.”
“As in 'had sex'? That's bullshit.”
“You said you couldn't remember anything before your accident.”
“I'd remember that.”
“Your name is Louise. I took you as my mate.”
“Why do you keep saying the word 'mate'? You make it sound like we're animals. Are you trying to tell me we were lovers?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “And so much more.”
“Right.” The man was obviously deranged. “Well that's okay then.”
“You remember?”
“Of course I don't fucking remember because there's nothing to remember. You're full of shit. If we were lovers before my accident, why didn't you come forward when I was in hospital? Where have you been for the last five years? What happened? Did you suddenly wake up one morning and notice I wasn't in the bed next to you? Did you think 'I haven't seen Louise for five years' —I wonder what happened to her?”
“I have been looking for you. I never stopped looking.”
“For five years?” You can't have been looking very hard.”
“I've been searching for you for almost forty years.”
“Forty years?” I laughed. “My bad. Of course you have. I should have realised that you've been looking for me since fifteen years before I was born”
I stood up. “I'm done here. If I see your sorry arse anywhere within a mile of me again, I'll get the cops on you.”
“Louise wait!” He held out a hand, but I brushed it away. Alison was at a table close to the door. I motioned towards the exit, and she nodded.
*********
“You need to tell the police,” Alison said. “The man's a sandwich short.”
I'd just given her Cliff Notes of my conversation with Craven.
“Forty years? Was he high?”
“God knows. I should never have agreed to meet him.”
“Why did you?”
“I thought he might have known me from before the accident.”
Alison nodded. She knew how my past—or lack of it—played on my mind. I'd tried to move on with my life, but there were always the nagging doubts. What had I left behind? Who had I left behind? My parents? Who were they? Were they still alive? Did I have siblings? Friends? If I did, why hadn't they come forward? How could I have disappeared without anyone noticing?
“I thought I might actually find out who I was.” I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
“Come here.” Alison put her arm around my shoulders. “Let's get you home.”
Alison could be a pain, but she was also a good friend. She called a taxi, and took me back to the flat.
“I think I'm going to have a lie down,” I said. “My head feels like it's going to explode.”
“Good idea.”
“You go back to town if you like. I'll be okay now.” I tapped two aspirin from the bottle.
“Nah. I'll stay here. I'd only spend money I don't have.”
I wasn't sure if I'd sleep, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I'd gone.
I could hear footsteps echoing around the cave—coming from somewhere behind me. I was running—trying to get away. The footsteps were getting louder—getting closer. My throat was on fire, and my legs felt like jelly, but I had to keep going. Ahead, I could see a pin-prick of daylight. I had to get out of the cave. The footsteps were louder still—only a few feet behind me. I couldn't let him catch me. I ignored the pain in my lungs, and pushed forward. Not far now!
A hand grabbed my ankle.
“No!”
I sat up in bed. My heart was racing. I ran a palm across my forehead which was moist with sweat. Would these damn nightmares ever end? At least my headache had gone. I glanced at my phone which was on the bedside cabinet. Ten to four? I hadn't intended to sleep for so long.
“Alison?” There was no sign of her in the lounge or kitchen. “She'd probably succumbed to her retail addiction, and gone back into town. Her bedroom door was ajar.
“Alison?” I pushed the door open. She was lying face down on the bed. “You asleep?”
No response. I was just about to leave when I noticed something on the white pillowcase. Something red.
“Are you okay?” I walked over to the bed. “No! Oh God! No!”
The pillowcase and bed cover were stained red. Alison's eyes were wide open, but she couldn't see me. “No! No!”
“Louise.” The voice came from behind me.
Chapter 3
He slammed the bedroom door closed. His eyes were dead; there was blood on his lips. I tried to speak, but my brain wouldn't connect with my mouth. I glanced again at Alison. I must still be dreaming—another nightmare—this couldn't possibly be real.
“Louise,” he said. “Did you really think you could escape?”
“What do you want?” I'd found my voice, but it sounded as feeble as I felt.
“I think you know.”
I had no idea. The last time I'd seen him was when he tried to deliver a parcel to the flat earlier in the day. “Who are you?”
He smiled, and I could see traces of red on his white teeth. The man was obviously insane. I had to get out of there, so I made a dash for it, but before I could grab the handle, he'd put his body between me and the door.
“There's no escape.” He sneered. “This day has been a long time coming.”
“Please. Let me go.”
The next thing I knew, I was choking. He had his hand around my throat, and had lifted me off my feet. I couldn't breathe. I scratched at his face, and kicked him, but it had no effect. I tried to scream, but could make no sound. I fought to stay conscious. A sickening smile was plastered on his face as he stared into my eyes.
“Why?” I tried to say, but my voice failed. Blackness began to engulf me.
I gasped for air as I landed with a thud against the bed frame. Pain wracked my back and leg. My vision was swimming as I tried to make sense of the sight in front of me. Two figures moved back and forward—sometimes separately—sometimes clamped together. Craven? I blinked my eyes to try to clear my vision. Two men? An animal? My head was still reeling. A deafening howl filled the room. Then a scream—of pain?
Darkness engulfed me again.
When I came around, the side of my face was resting against something cold. It took a colossal effort, but I managed to raise my head. Through the glass, I could see the countryside flashing by. I was in a car which I didn't recognise.
“You awake?” Craven glanced at me from the driver's seat.
“Where are we?”
“We have to get away.”
“Where are you taking me?” I flinched as pain shot down my back.
“Are you okay?” he said.
“I guess.” I said—unsure if I was. “What happened back there?”
“I'll explain everything later. I promise.”
“Alison?”
“Your friend is dead. I'm so very sorry.”
It was too much. I had so many questions, but I was too tired to even think—let alone talk. I closed my eyes, and hoped I'd wake up back in my bed. This was surely another nightmare.
I woke up in a bedroom which was much larger and tidier than my own. I sat up—my leg and back were still aching. I appeared to be in some kind of log cabin. As I stumbled out of bed, I was relieved to find I was still wearing my clothes. Through the window, I could see that t
he cabin was in a clearing bordered by thick woodland. Where the hell was I? I stood still for several minutes and listened, but couldn't hear any sounds from within the cabin.
I vaguely remembered being in a car—with Craven? Was he here? Wherever here was.
“Louise, you're awake.” Craven said.
He was seated in a green leather armchair. To his left, an open fire blazed.
“Where are we?”
“It doesn't matter. We should be safe here for now. Come and sit with me. You look—”
“Shit?”
“I was going to say tired, but I guess 'shit' is about right.” He smiled.
I still felt unsteady on my feet, so accepted his invitation to sit in the identical armchair at the opposite side of the fireplace.
“He killed Alison,” I said. “That bastard killed Alison.”
“I'm truly sorry about your friend.”
“Who is he? Why did he kill her?”
“His name is Lassiter. He came for you. Your friend got in the way.”
“Got in the way? So he just kills her?”
Craven nodded.
“What does he want with me?”
“I'm not sure. Maybe to kill you.”
“Why?”
“It's complicated.”
“You keep saying that. Tell me.”
“Are you sure you're ready to listen.”
“Yes. Just tell me.”
“Lassiter isn't human,” he began.
“You're not kidding. The murdering bastard is an animal.”
“Actually, he's a vampire.”
“A vampire?” I laughed, and the pain shot up my back again. “I thought you were going to tell me what really happened.”
“I'm trying to. I know this is difficult, but I'm telling you the truth.”
“A vampire?” I snorted.
“Your friend. Alison? She must have invited him in.”
“He came to the flat earlier in the day. He said he had a parcel for Alison. If he was looking for me, why didn't he attack me then?”
“Did you invite him in?”
“No. He gave me the creeps, so I wouldn't let him in.”
“He couldn't enter your flat without an invitation. Your friend must have asked him in.”
“Why did he kill her if it was me he was after?”
“He didn't need a reason. He's only interested in you.”
“Why would anyone want to kill me? I haven't done anything to anyone.”