‘Trying to contact him was not a good idea,’ Edward said, glancing through the window as a nurse passed by. ‘The police are looking into this. Let them get on with their job – it’s what they’re paid to do, and I’m sure they’ll find out who did this. In the meantime, concentrate on looking after your sister. She’ll be going through a worse time than you, Will, believe me.’
‘They’re convinced it’s Dan,’ Will said. ‘But they don’t know the full story. I should have shown them the photograph.’
‘You’re jumping to conclusions. Apart from the photo, of which there could be other explanations, there’s nothing else to suggest he has anything to do with it. How long is it since you last heard from him?’
‘Eleven months, two days,’ Will replied without hesitation.
‘Jesus, Will, you’ve got to stop this.’
Will turned away from his father and watched Richard, willing him to open his eyes. Then in that split second he realised that if Richard did wake, and his suspicions were true, then it could be the end for him.
‘You know what I think,’ Edward continued. ‘This is all part of your guilt trip. You’re desperate to blame yourself for what has happened, but think about it, if it was him, why attack Dan’s brother? He’s got nothing to do with it.’
‘I should have gone to the police in the first place,’ Will stated, as he continued to ponder the possible ramifications of Richard’s recovery. ‘I should have told them everything right at the beginning. But I’m a coward.’
‘You’re not a coward,’ Edward dismissed. ‘I don’t want to hear you talking about yourself like that. It won’t help the situation one bit.’
‘Oh, I am a coward, dad,’ he said, facing up to him across Richard’s bed. ‘I thought you would have known that by now. Or are you still in denial at the way the son of the great Edward Holden has turned out?’
‘Don’t be stupid, William.’
‘I mean it, dad. Emma is out there, desperate to know what happened to Dan, and maybe, just maybe, I can do something about it. But I’m too busy worrying about myself; how it will affect me.’
‘You’re being too hard on yourself.’
‘Dad, how can you say that after what I’ve done?’
Edward moved around the bedside and placed a hand on Will’s shoulder. ‘William, you found yourself in a situation and you made a mistake. That doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human.’
‘But I deserve to be punished.’
‘You have been punished,’ he replied. ‘You’ve been punishing yourself for years now. Your life is falling apart, and you’re just standing there letting it happen. But it’s got to stop, before you lose everything and everyone.’
‘I’ve been having thoughts recently, about whether it’s worth going on living,’ Will admitted.
Edward exhaled, rubbing at his newly grown beard.
‘Have you given any more thought to seeing a counsellor?’
‘I can’t. You need to be open and honest for those things to work. You can’t go in there, keep a secret like mine and expect to come out cured.’
‘Then you’ve just got to work through this,’ Edward said. ‘But please, Will, try and move on, for all our sakes.’
17
Some years earlier
‘Excuse me, can I have your autograph?’
Emma turned to look at the rather scrawny looking, acne scarred man standing by the studio gates, who was holding out a note pad in expectation. He looked to be about eighteen, but was dressed more like an old man in grey trousers and a knitted jumper. A camera hung around his neck, and Emma immediately thought that he looked like a train spotter.
Although a voice was telling her to politely refuse and walk on by, no one had asked for her autograph before. What harm could it do?
She didn’t notice the warning signs of desperation in his eyes.
‘Sure,’ she said, moving back towards him. ‘No problem.’
‘Thank you so much,’ the guy gushed, as he handed Emma the pad and pen. ‘I’m so grateful to you for doing this. I thought you might be too busy – I know you’re busy – but it’s great that you can take the time for me.’
‘It’s no problem, honestly,’ Emma replied, holding the pen ready to write. The biro was about half its normal size; the plastic at the end was cracked and splintered. To her distaste she realised that the tatty, browning sellotape wrapped around the top of the pen was damp with what she could only think was saliva. She used her best acting skills to keep a calm face and just put up with it.
‘I’m your number one fan,’ he said. ‘I didn’t used to watch the programme that much. But since you’ve been in it I haven’t missed an episode. If I’m out when it’s on I video record it. Sometimes I video record it anyway, so I can watch it back as much as I want.’
Emma waited to just write what she had to and then leave. She was already regretting this situation – the guy was harmless but weird with it.
‘I think you’re a fantastic actress,’ he said.
‘Thanks.’ Emma was embarrassed by the compliment. She didn’t look up at him, keeping her eyes on the pad, but he was ducking down to catch her attention.
‘I’m your number one fan,’ he repeated, as if he was looking for a response that hadn’t come the first time he’d said it. He edged forward, invading her personal space. Now he now had her backed against the wall. ‘I know everything about you.’
Alarm bells rang.
‘I hope not,’ she tried to joke, but it came out sounding nervous. She glanced across to the gates but the security guy who sometimes patrolled wasn’t there.
‘Your favourite meal is Lasagne, your favourite film of all time is Dirty Dancing. You’re a black belt in Karate. You started training at your high school when you were eleven, because a girl started bullying you in your art class. It only took you five years for you to get your black belt. This year you’re fighting in the British championships in Birmingham, but you’re finding it difficult to fit in the training now you’re working on the show. You’ve always wanted to be an actress, and you’d love to work on a film, but you don’t think you’re ready yet.’
Emma shifted nervously.
‘How do you know all this?’
‘I read it,’ he said. ‘I always look for articles about you in the magazines. I never buy the magazines though – I read them in WH Smiths. They let you go there and read magazines for as long as you like – you can stand there all day and it’s all free. I like going there, especially when there are articles about you.’
‘Oh, the magazine article,’ she realised, feeling relieved that there was a rational explanation for his in-depth knowledge of her personal history and preferences. ‘You read the interview in the magazine.’
He nodded and smiled, revealing yellowing teeth and a waft of stale breath. It didn’t look like he ever brushed.
‘I like reading articles about you.’
She hadn’t really wanted to do the damn magazine interview, but her agent had convinced her that such self-promotion could lead to better acting roles in the future. In the end she had quite enjoyed the experience. But now, looking at this grinning man, she realised she had opened up part of her private life to strangers. It felt weird.
‘What would you like me to write?’ Emma said, holding the pen ready, still not wanting to look up at him.
‘Whatever you like,’ he said. ‘My name’s Stephen.’
‘Okay, Stephen.’ She wrote down a short note on the first available blank page, some three quarters of the way through the notebook. The rest of the pages were full of autographs, some of which she recognised as being from fellow cast members.
Emma handed the book and pen back to him, wanting desperately to wipe her hand clean. She watched as Stephen studied her message intently like he trying to decipher a World War Two code.
‘To my number one fan, love from Emma,’ he read out loud. He looked up at her and smiled. ‘Thank you,’ he said,
again with more than a hint of desperation. ‘You’re not just beautiful - you’re really kind. I think we’re going to be really good friends. I knew we would, from the first moment I saw you.’
‘Thanks, look I’d better get going now.’ Emma had managed to turn him in a circular motion so that now he was against the wall. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘Just a second,’ he said, bringing the camera up to his face.
Emma put a hand up to block the shot.
‘No, Stephen, please don’t.’
‘It’s okay, it’s done now.’
She could have tried to protest, but all she really wanted was to get away from him.
‘I have to go,’ she said, turning and walking away.
‘See you again soon,’ he shouted, waving.
***
‘Emma, over here.’
Emma shoved the change from the sandwich in her pocket and looked across the canteen to see who had just shouted at her. Claire Donovan, a fellow cast member who was sitting towards the centre of the room on her own was gesturing for her to come over.
‘Hi,’ Emma said, sliding into the chair opposite. ‘What’s up?’
Emma had never eaten with Claire before. The cast tended to break off into cliques, mostly depending on how long someone had been in the show. And while Emma had been on cast for only six months, Claire had been around for nearly four years and was reportedly one of the highest paid actors in the show.
‘I saw you talking with Stephen Myers yesterday,’ Claire Donovan said, putting down her knife and fork.
‘The guy at the gate? He asked for my autograph, that’s all.’
‘And he took a photograph?’
‘Well, yes,’ Emma said, ‘and I didn’t give him permission to do that. I won’t be speaking to him again, that’s for certain. He made me feel pretty uncomfortable but I think he’s harmless really. Why do you ask?’
‘He isn’t harmless,’ she corrected. ‘Stay away from him. He’s bad news.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s been hanging around the studios for a couple of years, on and off, bothering the female cast. And it is always the girls. The guys can walk past him and he won’t ever bat an eyelid. I know he seems harmless, Emma, but once you give him some encouragement it’s very difficult to get rid of him.’
‘He’s a stalker?’
‘Karen Rodham had a lot of trouble with him a year back. She was nice to him at first, signed his little autograph book, and thought nothing of it. But then he started wanting to talk to her every evening after work, going up to her at the gates. After a few weeks he began turning up outside her house, ringing the doorbell in the middle of the night, shouting up to her window, telling her that he loved her. Karen nearly left the show because of it. So yes, he is a stalker.’
‘My God, that’s terrible. Did she tell the police?’
‘Yes, but it took a while before they treated it as seriously as they should have done,’ she said. ‘Eventually though they put a restraining order on him and that seemed to work, because he stopped following her and even stopped coming to the studio. Then I saw him talking with you yesterday. I’m really sorry I didn’t come over and pull you away, but I just can’t bring myself to be anywhere near the guy. I’m scared that if I go near him, he’ll start latching onto me.’
‘So what should I do now?’
‘Just don’t speak to him again,’ she advised. ‘I know it sounds horrible, but if he tries to talk to you just blank him, pretend he’s not there. Hopefully he’ll get the message. Whatever you do, don’t give him any sense of encouragement; otherwise what happened to Karen will happen to you. I’m going to warn the rest of cast too, now I know he’s back.’
‘Okay,’ Emma said, ‘thanks for telling me.’
***
‘Emma,’ he said that afternoon as she exited the gates.
Emma’s heart sank as she saw Stephen Myers approach, smiling as you would do when welcoming a close friend. Although totally against her nature, Emma took Claire’s advice and walked straight past.
‘Emma!’ he shouted as she passed him, ‘what’s the matter?’
Despite knowing about his past, she still felt uncomfortable blanking him like that, but she took a deep breath and hoped that was the end of it.
But he raced up behind her, the camera bouncing up and down off his pigeon chest.
‘I’ve got your photo,’ he said, struggling to keep up as Emma tried to out-walk him. ‘Here it is.’
She didn’t stop to look at the photo he was holding up.
‘I’m going to put it on my bedroom wall.’
‘Please, Stephen, I need to get home,’ she said, resisting the temptation to snatch the photo from his sweaty hand.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, now starting to jog. ‘Has someone upset you? Did he upset you?’
‘I’m in a hurry,’ she said, not knowing what he was talking about.
‘Getting home to your boyfriend?’
Emma stopped. Maybe if she reasoned with him, ended this now, she could avoid problems later on. She had always believed that if you could just connect with someone, even the most unreasonable people could be brought onside.
‘Look, Stephen. You seem like a nice guy, but I’ve really got to get home. It’s getting dark and I have to get back.’
‘To your boyfriend, to Darren.’
‘Darren?’
‘Yes, Darren…Darren Clarke.’
He was referring to her boyfriend’s on-screen character. He worked on the show too – that’s where they had met.
‘His real name is Stuart,’ she said, ‘but I don’t live with him.’
Immediately she regretted telling him that.
‘I think you can do better than him,’ Stephen said. ‘You shouldn’t be going out with a criminal – not someone like Darren. What do you see in him?’
Stuart played the “bad boy” of the show, and Stephen Myers obviously had difficulty in determining fact from fiction.
‘Please, Stephen, I have to go now.’
She turned and began walking off.
‘Emma, I love you,’ she heard him shout. It took all her willpower not to break out into a run.
18
Present day
‘Sorry I took so long,’ Lizzy said to Emma as she sat down at the table in the busy Starbucks. ‘It was tricky to get away,’ she added, placing her handbag on the empty seat. ‘It’s complete mayhem there at the moment - the girl taking my place is having real trouble learning the routines, and the director is in the process of having a mental breakdown. They wanted me to stay for another couple of hours really, but thankfully I performed okay so they let me go eventually.’
‘I’m sorry, Lizzy, for dragging you over here,’ Emma said. ‘I don’t want to ruin your big break. They aren’t angry with you, are they, for leaving?’
‘Nah,’ Lizzy dismissed, ‘they need me, Em. There’s no one else who could stand in at such short notice. I like to think that it gives me a bit of leeway,’ she smiled. ‘Anyway, I told them my aunty was sick, and I had to go over and see how she was. I make a worryingly convincing liar you know.’
Emma smiled. ‘I’m lucky to have you on my side. You’re such a good friend.’
‘I know, I know,’ she joked. ‘So, what’s this all about? When you called I thought something might have happened with Richard.’
‘I spoke with Mrs Henderson,’ Emma said.
‘I thought you might,’ Lizzy said, not sounding at all surprised. ‘So, what did she say?’
‘Not a great deal – but what she did say was potentially really important.’
‘Go on,’ Lizzy said, ‘don’t leave me hanging in suspense.’
‘I think I know who attacked Richard. And he might now have Dan too.’
‘What?’
‘It’s a long story. Let’s get a coffee; I’ve got a lot to fill you in on.’
***
‘It started when I was working on
the soap up in Manchester,’ Emma began, as they both sat cradling their cups of coffee. ‘I’d only been on the show for a few months and one day, as I was leaving for the night, a guy comes up to me and asks for my autograph. His name was Stephen Myers. I didn’t really think much of it, although he seemed a bit creepy. But the next day one of the other girls on the show warned me about him, saying that he had a history of following female cast members around, turning up outside their houses, sending them love letters. She warned me not to encourage him – not to talk to him again.’
‘So he was a stalker?’ Lizzy said, taking a sip of her coffee but not taking her eyes off Emma.
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘He’d already been warned by the police about what he’d done to another girl. She’d taken out a court order so he couldn’t approach her. Since then he’d gone away, until that day I met him.’
‘So what happened?’
‘I did just what the girl said. That night he was waiting outside the studio for me, and I just tried to ignore him. I hoped he’d get the message.’
‘But he didn’t?’
‘No, he didn’t. Every day he’d be waiting outside the gates. Sometimes he’d tell me that he loved me, other times he’d shout abusive things about Stuart, who I was dating. He couldn’t seem to distinguish fantasy from reality – he would always call Stuart Darren, his name in the show. He’d warn me that he was a bad influence; that he was involved with criminals. But that was just part of the programme.’
‘My God,’ Lizzy grimaced. ‘He sounds deranged.’
‘He was really into taking photographs, and he’d always have a camera with him. Even though I tried to walk past as fast as I could, every day he’d take pictures of me. The other cast members even started accompanying me on the way out, surrounding me – like bodyguards – but it didn’t deter him. Sometimes he’d post the photographs to my agent, but mostly I never saw what he’d taken.’
The One You Love (suspense mystery) Page 8