The Visitor: A psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist

by K. L. Slater

  ‘What the…? Ow…’

  Reluctantly he’d sat up, squinting and rubbing his temple, his nose wrinkling as he registered the stench.

  ‘It’s six thirty,’ Holly had whispered, still incredulous that she could have slept at all.

  They’d both sat for a few seconds, looking around them in disbelief.

  Holly had counted four other bodies in the room; she’d thought of them as that because, apart from the rise and fall of their chests, they looked exactly like identical corpses. People who were very overweight often shared the same bunched-up facial features, their eyes disappearing into dough-like cheeks like small currants. These souls had all resembled grey-skinned skeletons with sucked-in, angular cheeks and jutting bones.

  A couple lay in the opposite corner, their emaciated limbs tangled together as if that was all that was tethering them to the physical world. Two young males lay separately, and comatose, alongside another wall.

  ‘You’re right,’ Markus had said grimly. ‘Let’s split before the waking dead arise.’

  His apt analogy had got Holly to her feet in no time, and she’d found to her horror on standing that she was desperate for the loo.

  ‘I hope you are joking. I saw the state of the bathroom last night when we arrived,’ Markus had told her grimly. ‘Makes this room smell like a flower shop. If I were you, I would go in the garden. That’s what I intend to do.’

  Easy for blokes; they could pee anywhere, Holly had thought at the time. But mortified though she’d been, that was exactly what she’d done.

  Markus had stood with his back to her to offer a little privacy at least, as she’d crouched in the long grass hoping the neighbours weren’t watching.

  Ironically, she’d thought, although she and Markus had just been classmates at school, never seeing each other outside of lessons, they were already getting to know each other very well indeed.

  Ten minutes later, they were lugging their holdalls towards the busy main road.

  Holly had never felt so glad to see the welcome sight of a dark-red-and-white Costa Coffee sign on the corner. She felt the prickle of tears of relief when she realised it was one of the early-opening branches.

  Markus had bought her a croissant and a latte and sat her down in the corner of the nearly empty shop with their bags.

  ‘I’ll be back soon as I can,’ he’d said, checking his phone. ‘I need to make some calls and sort out where we’re going from here. Will you be OK?’

  ‘Fine.’ She was still enjoying the wonderful sense of relief she’d experienced the second she’d escaped the house of horrors around the corner.

  She’d whipped out her book and had sat quite happily in the corner. Nobody bothered her or asked why she didn’t leave after she’d drunk her coffee. The staff didn’t seem enamoured to be there and stared glumly out of the window, barely glancing her way at all.

  As she’d expected, the café grew steadily busier as time ticked on, mostly with commuters grabbing their takeout coffees en route to work.

  After about an hour, she’d been contemplating buying another coffee herself – a serious decision when she had so little cash and no job as yet on the horizon – when the door opened and Markus appeared again.

  ‘We’re being picked up outside in about thirty minutes,’ he’d told her. ‘We can stay and have another coffee here and then you shouldn’t have to see this shitty part of Manchester again. How does that sound?’

  ‘Perfect,’ she’d replied, beaming at the thought of finally leaving the place.

  He bought more coffees and sat back down.

  ‘We could freshen up in the bathroom here,’ he suggested, closing his eyes briefly as he savoured the creamy warmth of his drink. ‘You go first. This guy who’s picking us up, Brendan, he’s my boss, so I’d like to look half decent, and you never know… there may be an opportunity for you too.’

  Holly had used the disabled loo because there was more space. She locked the door behind her and peeled off her top, washing under her arms and applying deodorant at the small sink. She brushed her hair and slicked it back with water, pulling it into a short ponytail and securing any sticky-out bits with hair grips.

  ‘That’s better,’ she told her reflection. Then, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and her slightly jaundiced complexion, she’d reached for her meagre make-up bag.

  She’d applied a few dots of concealer to mask her lack of sleep, and then brushed on a little mascara and bronzer. A touch of dark pink lipstick and, she had to admit, she looked almost passable. Perhaps even like the kind of person Markus’s boss would want to employ.

  ‘Wow,’ said Markus when she returned to the table. ‘You look knockout.’

  ‘That’s a bit of an exaggeration.’ She’d rolled her eyes but felt secretly pleased at his compliment. ‘But at least I don’t look like I just spent a sleepless night in a local drugs den.’

  Markus had grinned. ‘It will soon get better, I promise you.’

  Again she wondered why he’d given her the impression before they left Nottingham that everything was organised and in hand. Again she quickly dismissed the thought, deciding not to challenge him now that things seemed to be improving at last.

  Markus finished his coffee and paid a visit to the bathroom himself.

  When he returned, she’d glanced at her watch.

  ‘We still have ten minutes,’ she’d ventured. ‘What line of work is this guy Brendan in?’

  ‘Hospitality, I suppose you’d call it,’ Markus had said, surprising her with his willingness to talk at last. ‘He owns several bars and restaurants dotted around Manchester and further afield. He needs people he can trust for all kinds of jobs. I’ve been helping him with his social media presence.’

  Holly knew Markus was skilled-up when it came to IT. He’d been involved in all sorts of initiatives at school and had told her he didn’t need a part-time job as he made lots of cash in hand from designing websites for people and organising online advertising and communications for small companies.

  She’d felt a frisson of excitement. ‘Sounds like there’s a good chance he might have some waitressing or bar work I can do, at least to get me earning something.’

  ‘Absolutely. In fact I’ve already mentioned this to him and he seemed quite keen.’

  Her mood had instantly lifted. Suddenly a very bad start seemed to be turning into something altogether more positive.

  Markus had been right after all, she reassured herself. It was all going to work out just fine.

  Except, of course, it didn’t.

  Chapter Thirty

  Holly

  It was late on Thursday afternoon that, out of the corner of her eye, Holly saw a suited young couple approaching.

  ‘Looks like we have some late customers.’ She sidled over to Emily, hoping to ignite a little camaraderie for once. But Emily merely glanced at the couple and grimaced.

  ‘Time-wasters,’ she hissed, turning her back. ‘This is the third time they’ve been in this week, supposedly looking for a suite. They’re both on teachers’ salaries, obviously well out of their league in here.’

  ‘Hi,’ the man said as he reached them. Holly smiled but Emily didn’t look around. When he saw Emily’s obvious lack of interest, the man’s cheeks began to colour up, matching the pale red of his hair. ‘We’d like to take another look at that corner suite in the window, if that’s all right.’

  ‘You mean the Brooklyn suite you looked at yesterday?’ Emily replied frostily. ‘The one that’s priced at nearly eight and a half thousand pounds?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ the young woman replied pleasantly. ‘It’s such a lot of money to spend in one go and we just need to be sure, you see.’

  ‘You know, you’d probably find something quite similar for a third of the price at one of the chain furniture stores on the edge of town,’ Emily offered bluntly. ‘No doubt there’ll be pieces there that are far better suited to your budget.’

  Holly cringed
inwardly as the young woman’s face dropped.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Emily said brusquely, brushing past. ‘I’ve just remembered an urgent call I need to make.’

  Holly and the couple looked at each other awkwardly for a moment or two.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Holly said, a little over-brightly, noting their disappointed faces. She held out her hand. ‘I’m Holly. I’m new here but I happen to know all about the corner suite you’ve got your eye on. It’s a beauty, isn’t it?’

  Josh had taken her around the showroom and given her a brief overview of everything currently for sale, but she had to admit she hadn’t taken a great deal of notice, as there had been so much information to absorb.

  The woman’s smile returned. ‘Thank you, Holly, we’d appreciate your help. I’m Alice and this is my husband, Luke.’

  They shook hands, Holly smiling but silently praying she didn’t mess up her first big sales opportunity.

  ‘I’ve done nothing but think about this suite ever since we first set eyes on it.’ Alice’s pale, drawn face was suddenly glowing and animated. ‘It would look so beautiful in our new apartment.’

  ‘It really is very special,’ Holly agreed. ‘Let’s take another look together.’

  They walked over to the outsize three-piece silver-and-bronze suite that sat regally in the window. Holly checked the information sign in front of it.

  ‘So, here we’ve got a crushed velvet grand corner sofa complete with eighteen cushions, a double snuggle chair and a large studded velvet footstool. And the total comes to…’ she glanced at the price card at the side, ‘eight thousand four hundred pounds.’

  Her heart rate picked up as realisation dawned on her.

  This morning, at the five-minute staff briefing Josh conducted before the start of business each day, they had discussed this very suite.

  ‘Mr Kellington wants window space for another suite that’s arrived unexpectedly early,’ he had told them. ‘I’ll be reducing the Brooklyn to six and a half grand tomorrow. Just so you know, if you get anyone interested, you can go down to that price today if it swings a quick deal.’

  ‘The suite has a solid beech frame, natural fibre seat cushions and is made locally by a very reputable manufacturer,’ Holly continued, hoping she’d got the details right.

  ‘We were concerned the colour is maybe just a tad too light,’ Luke murmured. ‘Could you order it in another colour if necessary?’

  ‘Of course we can, if that’s what you want,’ Holly said, thumbing through the fabric swatch draped over the back of the sofa to hide her dread that they might do so. She looked furtively around the shop, remembering Emily’s endlessly successful technique. ‘Look, I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but if you decided to take the showroom model, I could probably get you a very good deal on the price.’

  ‘Really?’ Alice’s eyes widened. ‘That would be brilliant, wouldn’t it, Luke?’

  ‘Hmm,’ he mused, less convinced. His eyes roamed over the suite. ‘I’d imagine customers have been sitting on this model, though; kids with sticky fingers perhaps. Whereas a brand-new one would be—’

  ‘I can assure you very few people have sat on this particular suite.’ Holly shook her head. ‘It’s been in the window for most of its short time here, and… well, as you can imagine, we don’t get a lot of kids with sticky fingers running riot in the showroom. Have you sat on it yourselves yet?’

  ‘Only very briefly,’ Alice said. ‘It’s one of the reasons we came in again today.’

  Holly smiled. ‘Then let’s put that right now.’

  The next few minutes saw Alice and Luke cooing at the luxurious comfort of the sofa. Holly perched on the edge of the matching snuggle chair, watching as they muttered together in low voices.

  ‘Another good thing about taking this showroom model is that it’s also had a full stain-guard protection treatment that would usually cost three hundred pounds,’ Holly added, standing up again. ‘Tell you what, I’ll give you a few minutes of privacy. If you decide to take it, I’ll do my utmost to get you the best price and arrange for free delivery within five days. How’s that sound?’

  To her dismay, Luke stood up and helped his wife to her feet.

  ‘Actually, Holly, I think we’ve seen everything we need to. We’re going to sleep on it, and if we decide to take it, we’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning. Hope that’s OK?’

  ‘Of course,’ Holly said, trying desperately to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She handed Luke her business card. ‘Take all the time you like, and if you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to give me a call.’

  She watched them leave, her heart a little heavier.

  ‘Told you!’ a triumphant voice announced behind her. ‘Time-wasters. I can spot them a mile away. You’ll learn too, when you’re not so wet behind the ears.’

  Holly turned, and for a second was extremely tempted to slap Emily’s smug, mocking face.

  ‘I just think it’s a big purchase for them,’ she said lightly, hiding her irritation. ‘It’s understandable that they want to be absolutely sure before buying.’

  ‘Ha! You’re so naïve, Molly.’ Emily tossed her glossy bob back from her face and laughed. ‘If they were wealthy enough to buy that suite, they wouldn’t think twice about it. They’d just—’

  ‘It’s Holly.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My name is Holly, not Molly,’ she repeated slowly, fully aware that Emily knew exactly what she’d called her. ‘And actually, I find it naïve to dismiss the fact that there are lots of people out there who value their hard-earned money. They care enough to make an informed decision. Not everyone is as shallow as your air-kissing Fenwicks, you know.’

  With that, she turned on her heel and walked away feeling quite triumphant.

  When she was halfway upstairs to Josh’s office, she looked down to see Emily still standing in the same spot with her mouth hanging open.

  ‘She looks like she’s catching flies.’

  Holly turned back with a start to see David just above her, descending the stairwell.

  ‘David.’ She forced a weak smile. Nick Brown’s comments and David turning up at the door like that last night had unnerved her a little.

  David had seemed OK to her before, but now she felt a slight prickle of unease.

  Whatever had happened two years ago sat between Holly and the rest of the street like the elephant in the room. Nobody seemed to want to talk about the mystery event, but it hovered in the air like a swarm of black flies. And it was high time she tackled it.

  She looked up to find David still staring at her.

  ‘Emily’s not happy with me, I’m afraid.’ She shrugged.

  ‘Oh dear.’ David tapped his fingertips on the stair rail as if he’d run out of words.

  ‘You seemed a bit stressed out when you came round to the house last night,’ Holly said lightly. ‘If you fancy a quick chat one lunchtime, just let me know.’

  He looked startled, like he’d been caught in a dazzling light.

  ‘I don’t have a lunchtime as such because I finish my shift at one,’ he said quickly. ‘I have to go straight for the bus.’

  ‘I see,’ Holly replied, feeling a poke of irritation at his description of yet another stringent routine. ‘See you around then, Dave.’

  ‘It’s… David,’ he said. ‘I prefer to be called David… if that’s OK.’

  ‘Course.’ Talk about uptight, she fumed inwardly. ‘See you soon then, David.’

  She carried on climbing up the steps, but he didn’t move.

  ‘What did… Mrs Barrett say last night when I’d gone back home?’

  ‘Say?’ Holly shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face. ‘About what?’

  ‘About me,’ he said tersely.

  ‘She didn’t say anything about you.’ Holly shrugged. ‘David, are you sure you’re feeling OK?’

  Just watch him. Nick’s voice echoed in her head.

  ‘Yes,�
�� he said, seeming to shake himself and focus on her face again. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

  Before she could reply, he stepped aside and carried on downstairs without looking back.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Holly

  Holly’s plan had been to carve out an ordered, calm life for herself. Not to become embroiled in a whole new set of dysfunctional people.

  In her experience, everyone had a facade, and around here, she was still to some extent heavily reliant on people’s opinions about each other.

  It was difficult to sift through the information and decide who and what to believe.

  Patience was the key, she felt. Fresh starts could take some time to come good. That had certainly been the case in Manchester.

  * * *

  That first morning after surviving the drugs den, she and Markus had stood outside the coffee shop with their bags stacked beside them and waited for his boss, Brendan, to pick them up.

  Holly had turned at a screech of brakes and watched as a big black jeep pulled up at the kerb. It parked on double yellow lines, narrowing the lane and causing passing drivers to beep and curse.

  ‘Wow, a G-Wagen. I love it.’ Markus had given a low whistle.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man who Holly guessed was probably in his late thirties had jumped out of the driver’s side and given the middle finger to an openly cursing passing driver. He grinned and grasped Markus’s hand warmly in both of his.

  ‘Good to see you, man,’ he’d beamed, and then turned to Holly. ‘And this is your lovely friend you told me about, yeah?’

  He’d said it without mockery and Holly felt full of confidence.

  She’d smiled shyly and shaken his hand.

  His face had been deeply tanned in that way you couldn’t get from just the odd week abroad. She’d thought he looked as though he probably went on holiday a lot and topped up his tan regularly. He had a wide smile and even white teeth. She’d felt a stir inside as she noticed his generous mouth… such soft, cushiony lips.