Dying To See You: a dark and deadly psychological thriller

by Kerena Swan

  Tilly leans through the gap in the front seats and shakes her sister’s leg unenthusiastically. She doesn’t want to do anything for Mum at the moment as she’s fuming with her. Mia tries to shrug her off and has now put her thumb in her mouth, a sure sign she’s ready to sleep. How can her mother even contemplate getting a lodger?

  ‘Where would he sleep?’ she demands.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The lodger. He can’t have my room. What if he’s a total freak?’

  ‘Who said it would be a ‘he’ anyway? There are women who want rooms too. I’ll sit down and discuss it with you when we get home. We’ll be there in five minutes.’

  ‘And who’s the bloke you’re having coffee with? How do you know he’s not a weirdo too? You always tell me, “don’t put yourself in risky situations,” remember?’

  ‘I’ve met his nan, who’s lovely, and he seems really nice. He’s an estate agent.’

  ‘Doesn’t stop him from being a mad psychopath, too.’

  ‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ Mum laughs. ‘Anyway, I’m only going for a coffee. It’s not as if we’re moving in together.’

  Tilly slumps down into her seat; reaching back to give Mia’s leg a half-hearted shake every now and then but it isn’t keeping her awake. Mum looks in the mirror just as Mia’s head tips forward. She opens her window and a blast of cold air circulates the car.

  ‘Muuuum!’ Tilly wails. ‘That’s freezing.’

  Mia has woken up and is looking out of her window as if to check where she is. Tilly leans across and points.

  ‘See that road down there? That’s where your dad used to live.’

  Mentioning Ryan will wind Mum up, but Tilly doesn’t care. Mum sighs and turns into their road then parks the car. Tilly watches her mum look across at the bus stop. There’s no sign of anyone. Mum spoke to the neighbours earlier, but they hadn’t seen anyone lurking about. It still brings Tilly out in goose bumps though. Welly is waiting on the doorstep, looking at them reproachfully.

  ‘Can you feed Welly please, Tills?’ Mum asks as she carries Mia upstairs.

  The cat follows Tilly to the food bowl and winds himself in and out of her legs then nudges Tilly’s hand as she squeezes the food packet. The contents empty onto the floor next to the bowl. ‘You stupid cat,’ Tilly yells.

  Even Welly is out to annoy her. She feels a sudden burst of anger. That’s it. She’s definitely going to contact her dad. She had some success this evening with tracking him down. Once Mum had revealed that he worked for the council she’d gone onto different council websites and typed his name in their search engines. The first four hadn’t yielded anything but the last one had shown a link to a charity newsletter. On the first page was a picture of a man with receding curly hair framing a round, podgy face and small eyes. ‘Harry Bryant becomes the Manager of Youff, the new drop-in centre for Leicester.’

  Tilly had been mortified her father was so unattractive. He’d definitely been punching above his weight with her mum. Still, if she could tap him up for a few quid it would be worth it. She’s sick of being the only girl in her group not to have the latest iPhone or even a warm winter coat. It’s not just about money, though. She’s not that mercenary. Tilly really wants to see what her father is like as a person. Will she share some of his traits or even mannerisms? Does she remind Mum of him? Tomorrow she’ll check out the website again and maybe call the charity. She’d been annoyed when her mum had walked in before she had a chance to find the number.

  Making her way upstairs to her room, Tilly hears her mum singing softly to Mia. She has a lovely voice. Tilly feels a small pang of guilt at her disloyalty and underhand behaviour, then remembers her grandad’s announcement about the lodger. Maybe if her dad can be persuaded to contribute to the bills they won’t need to take in a lodger. Pulling on a onesie, Tilly heads down to the kitchen again where Mum is warming some milk.

  ‘Fancy a hot chocolate?’ she asks. Tilly knows Mum is trying to butter her up, so she might as well push her luck.

  ‘Can I have some of those marshmallows on top?’ she asks, knowing they’re for Mia’s birthday cake.

  She loves making cupcakes and biscuits with Mia and has been buying a couple of items each week to spread the cost of the party. Mum hesitates, clearly torn between wanting to please Tilly and not wanting to eat the birthday treats.

  ‘Just a couple, then. Come and sit down. We need to talk.’

  Tilly reluctantly perches on a kitchen chair and waits for her drink. Sophie puts a steaming mug in front of her and adds two marshmallows.

  ‘I’ve got a proposition for you, Tills. What do you think to the idea of moving up to the attic? I’ll paint it any colour you choose, and you can have ten percent of whatever rent the lodger pays. You can even help me decide which lodger we take.’

  Is she serious? ‘No way!’ Tilly shouts, jumping up. ‘I’m not living up there. I’m too old for such a small bedroom. I’m not a little kid.’

  Sophie looks her up and down, taking in her giraffe onesie and monkey slippers. ‘OK,’ she says, her voice flat. ‘I’ll think of something else.’

  Tilly sits down again. ‘Sorry, Mum. It just doesn’t feel right having a stranger in our house.’

  Tilly’s pleased she’s decided to find her father. She just needs to work out now what to say to him. She wants to ask her mum if she has any other siblings but now is not the right time. Not to worry. She’ll ask her dad.

  19

  I wake to a laser beam of sunlight piercing my eyelids. The stupid cheap curtains don’t meet properly in the middle. I wonder if anyone outside in the bus shelter has been able to see in and shudder at the thought. On the positive side, I haven’t had any more funny turns since the day I met Max. The thought of meeting him for coffee today has me throwing the covers back and leaping out of bed with far more enthusiasm than usual.

  The morning routine runs smoothly. I’ve told Mia she’ll get a star on her reward chart if she dresses herself and she is being much more independent. I don’t know why I didn’t try this before. Tilly seems cheerful and I just know this is going to be a great day.

  I’m about to leave the house when the post rattles through the letter box. As I bend to scoop it up I spot the mortgage company logo on one of the envelopes and my heart freezes. I can’t bear to look at it now, so I thrust it into my bag as I head to the car with Mia.

  I’m sitting at my desk when my day gets worse. My phone beeps and a text appears from Lydia.

  ‘Sorry, can’t work for next few days. Grandad is poorly and I need to go and look after him. I’ll be in touch when I’m back.’

  I’m so angry I feel like launching the phone across the room. Does Lydia seriously think I’m stupid enough to fall for a sick grandad story just after I’d refused her leave to go to Cornwall for a few days’ surfing with her boyfriend? She knew I wasn’t trying to be difficult when I said no. She knows how much we need her here.

  ‘What’s up?’ Gwen has paused by my desk on her way to the printer.

  ‘Lydia’s let me down for Ivy’s sessions. I don’t think I have anyone else available for the lunch call.’

  I pull up my contact page and scroll through my list of staff. Today started so well and now it’s falling apart. The letter in my bag is like a menacing rodent, waiting to spring at me with rabid teeth. I almost want to kick the bag away from me. The door swings open and Karen bursts in laden with goods. More cake? Now I’m letting my frustration make me bitchy. Lydia’s absence isn’t Karen’s fault.

  ‘Lydia’s let Sophie down again,’ Gwen tells her. She looks at me sharply.

  ‘What excuse does she have this time?’

  ‘A sick grandad. I’ve never heard him mentioned before. Can you think of anyone who can step in for Ivy’s sessions? Lydia’s supposed to be there at twelve thirty today and she has other people to visit.’

  ‘We’re already short. You’ll have to step in.’

  I want to say I’ve got a coffee date, but Kar
en won’t care. I’ll have to call Max and – damn. I get up and brush past Karen.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she asks.

  ‘Toilet.’

  I sit in the cubicle and put my head in my hands. I didn’t take Max’s number so I can’t let him know I won’t make it. I can hardly ask Ivy for it. It would be so unprofessional. My breath is getting shorter and the pain is starting in my chest. Oh please, don’t let me be ill at work. I sit up and take deeper breaths, but it doesn’t help. I should have kept the paper bag in my pocket as Max had instructed.

  I’m not a child and I don’t expect life to be a fairy tale but right now I want to run away; from my job, my debts, and my constant responsibilities. Just half an hour for a coffee date isn’t an unreasonable expectation.

  I’m breaking out in a sweat even though I’m shivering. I feel dizzy and need to lie down but the space in the cubicle is too small. I slide open the bolt and slip onto the cloakroom floor pressing my hot cheek onto the cool tiles. I must breathe. I must breathe. I count my breaths in and out like Max showed me and gradually my heart rate slows. I’m thinking about getting to my feet when the door opens and Gwen walks in.

  ‘Sophie! Are you all right?’ she kneels over me.

  ‘I’m fine now,’ I say. ‘I just felt a bit dizzy.’ I clamber up and dust myself off then smile brightly into her worried face. ‘Please don’t mention it to Karen. You know what she’s like. I’ll be OK now.’

  Gwen doesn’t look convinced but moves aside so I can run my hands under the cold tap and splash water on my cheeks. My hands shake as I dry them and I’m glad Gwen doesn’t notice. Back at my desk I sit completely still and concentrate on breathing normally.

  ‘I just spoke to Patience,’ Karen says. ‘She can cover lunchtime today and tomorrow but isn’t sure after that.’

  I take back my mean thoughts about cakes. In fact, I could kiss her. Maybe today isn’t so bad after all. I glance at my bag and promise myself I will open the letter before I meet Max. He’ll be a good distraction from the bad news.

  Two hours later I sit in the park dredging up courage to open the envelope. My real fear is repossession. What if they won’t wait for the late payments? I slide my thumb under the flap, wincing at a paper cut, and draw out the letter. It’s a warning and they want me to make some payment towards the arrears even if I can’t clear all of them yet. I’ll tell them I can pay extra for the next three months though it means we’ll have to go without treats. Mia won’t get the doll’s house she wants for her birthday and the party will need to be done on a budget.

  I shove the letter back in my bag and walk to the café. The bell tinkles as I open the door and people glance up as I walk in. It feels stuffy and humid but smells deliciously of coffee and grilled bacon. My stomach grumbles as I scan the crowded tables looking for Max. A woman feeding her toddler in his high chair pulls her pushchair towards her as I squeeze past. There are more tables towards the back, but the partitions make it difficult to see who is there. I’m about to turn and wait near the front when I spot a shiny black shoe in the last cubicle.

  ‘Hi. I didn’t see you there. Sorry I’m late.’

  Max stands politely and helps me off with my coat. What a gentleman.

  ‘What would you like to drink?’ he asks handing me a menu. ‘Are you hungry?’

  His smile is so warm and welcoming I feel a jolt of excitement. How can such a handsome man be interested in me? I dressed with care this morning but my cream trousers and navy blouse suddenly feel bland and shabby.

  I scan the menu, delighted this is turning into a lunch date, and choose a simple salad and a smoothie. I don’t want anything that will be difficult to eat like spaghetti or a hot panini even though I’m hungry. I think of the home-made sandwiches in my bag that I won’t need now.

  We exchange pleasantries and slip easily into conversation. I’m hugely relieved when he says he lives on his own and doesn’t have any kids from a previous relationship. He’s so relaxing to be with I feel like I’ve known him for ages. He tells me about his job and I tell him about my children. He’s curious without being nosey and seems totally unfazed by the fact I’m a mum. Some men would run a mile, but Max seems genuinely interested in my life. He asks what it’s like to bring up two children on my own and I find myself admitting it isn’t always easy.

  ‘Both of my girls are adorable, although I would say that, wouldn’t I?’ I laugh and take a small bite of cucumber. ‘They can be hard work at times, though. Strong-willed.’ Max has an appealing way of pausing with food halfway to his mouth to look at me intently, a warm smile on his lips. I don’t think anyone has shown such interest in me or the girls before.

  ‘Tell me what you mean by “strong-willed”,’ he says.

  ‘Well, Mia can be quite a handful in the mornings and only wants to wear certain clothes, Tilly insists on wearing too much make-up, although luckily she’s not allowed to wear it at school and they’re both very clever at manipulating me to get what they want.’

  ‘I can’t believe that,’ Max says with a grin, leaning back in his chair. ‘I bet you are a brilliant mum.’

  ‘Tilly can be quite theatrical as well. She’s studying drama at school and sees real life as an opportunity to experiment with speech and reactions and quite often exaggerates situations. She’s recently convinced herself we have a stalker.’ I feel disloyal as I say this. I’m more worried than she is.

  Max looks up from his sandwich in alarm. ‘Really? What’s she said?’

  ‘She thinks there’s someone in the bus stop watching us. To be fair, I’ve noticed movement in there but it’s probably local kids. I had a word with the neighbours, but they haven’t noticed anything.’

  ‘Do you have a security door chain and window locks?’ he asks, and I’m taken aback. I didn’t expect him to take this so seriously and I feel a flutter of panic that I’ve not done more about it. I shake my head.

  ‘I hope you don’t think I’m being presumptuous, but I’d be happy to come and install some for you.’

  He places a warm hand on mine. I remind myself that I hardly know this man, but I can’t help feeling a shiver of excitement.

  ‘That would be wonderful.’ I say. What will Tilly think though?

  20

  Thank God. Another day of school over. Tilly slings her school bag in the corner of the kitchen then opens the fridge. No tasty snacks, as usual, just boring stuff. She cuts a wedge of cheese then fills a glass with orange juice and walks up the stairs to her bedroom taking care not to spill her drink. She steps over scattered clothing and narrowly avoids treading on a tea plate then sinks onto her unmade bed.

  ‘Oh, come on!’ she moans, jabbing at her old laptop. It takes so long to load the Internet. She wishes she has one like her Grandad’s. The Google page eventually opens. and she types in ‘Youff Leicester’. Within a minute she has found the number and is moving restlessly in front of her long mirror waiting for the call to be answered. She likes looking at her reflection; in shop windows, shiny appliances, even puddles. It’s not that she’s vain or anything. She’s just curious to see herself as others might see her and her appearance has changed so much recently she doesn’t know who she is any more. She wonders what her dad will think of her. Will he be impressed? At least she doesn’t have any outrageous piercings or pink hair to scare him off.

  ‘Hello, Youff. How can I help?’ Now she’s got through her heart lurches and her tongue’s got a knot in it.

  ‘Erm. Could I speak to er … Harry Bryant please?’

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s his day off today. Can I help?’

  Oh no. Tilly hadn’t thought about what she’d say if he wasn’t there.

  ‘No. Sorry. Do you have his mobile number?’

  ‘Can I ask who’s calling?’

  This woman isn’t going to divulge personal information so with a spurt of anger Tilly blurts out, ‘I’m his daughter.’

  ‘Oh, hi, Megan. I didn’t recognise your voice. Don’t you ha
ve his number?’

  Shit. ‘I’ve got a new phone and I lost my numbers.’ Phew, that was quick thinking.

  ‘You sound very grown up these days.’

  Tilly takes down the number, mutters a thank you and goodbye, then sits down heavily on her bed. A sister! She has a sister. Another sister, she thinks, guiltily remembering Mia. She’s always wondered if she has any other siblings. Has she got a brother too? She can’t wait to find out. How old is Megan? Has she got the same long blonde hair as her and Mia or is that inherited purely from Mum’s side of the family? Does this mean he’s married as well? She hasn’t considered this before. She doesn’t want to think about him being married to someone else.

  Tilly’s bedroom door creaks open and Welly sidles in then jumps on Tilly’s bed. She pulls him to her and buries her face into his warm neck. ‘I’ve got another sister,’ she whispers into his thick fur. He purrs loudly and tries to lick her fingers. The sudden trilling of her mobile makes them both jump.

  ‘Hi, Tilly, did you have a good day at school?’ It’s Grandad.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Have you had your mock exams yet?’

  ‘No. They’re ages away.’ He could have asked her all this yesterday.

  ‘I’m sorry to ask you, Tilly, but your mum’s a bit concerned. She wants to know what you were looking at on my laptop yesterday. I had a look at the browser history and could only find pages about Leicester Council and a youth charity there.’

  ‘Yes, I was just checking out stuff for my health and social care homework. We’re looking at local government and comparing services offered by different local councils.’

  ‘Nothing else?’ he asks.

  ‘Only Facebook.’ What if Grandad knows where her dad lives? He might work out what she’s up to. She can’t think why Mum might have mentioned Harry’s whereabouts, though.

  ‘I’m sorry to check up on you. Just be careful, love, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course, Grandad. I always am.’

  ‘Love you.’