The Visitor: A psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist

by K. L. Slater

  ‘I… I’ll need to lock my bag in the staff room.’

  Was it Holly’s imagination, or was there a tremor to Emily’s voice?

  Josh shook his head. ‘Go straight up there now, please, Emily. You can leave your bag down here.’

  Emily dumped her bag by the desk without replying, then turned on her heel and stormed off towards the stairs.

  ‘Look, I need to go up there too, but don’t go blaming yourself, Holly,’ Josh told her. ‘Enjoy your moment. Mr Kellington thinks you’re amazing.’

  Ben and Martyn both went back to their end of the showroom and Holly found herself alone again. Unusually, the shop floor was completely devoid of customers, save for an elderly lady at the far end whom Ben was now assisting.

  She took a few breaths and relaxed her shoulders.

  Despite Emily’s outburst, she had the distinct feeling that this was going to turn out to be a very good day.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Holly

  When Holly arrived home, Cora was upstairs. She stood outside the older woman’s bedroom door and listened to the thump and slide of moving furniture, the laboured breathing.

  Who’d have thought an ordinary mature lady like Cora would be keeping such an enormous secret to herself? One thing Holly had learned over the years was that people never failed to surprise you. And not always in a good way.

  It would be nice if Cora voluntarily confided in her soon, but Holly didn’t think that would happen. No. She’d be more likely to ask David or his mum, Pat, for advice… or perhaps even her gardener, Nick Brown.

  She didn’t think Cora would want that unpleasant man Brian to know. There was something about him Holly mistrusted.

  She’d seen Brian smoking at all hours down at the bottom of their garden. Although he’d been over the other side of the fence at the time, his eyes had always seemed to be trained up at her window.

  Some people would no doubt say she suffered from an overactive imagination, but Holly had previous experience when it came to this sort of thing. She knew how ordinary and innocuous a pervert could look, thanks to living with Uncle Keith.

  She didn’t disturb Cora. Instead she went into her own bedroom and lay on the bed to come down a bit from the excitement of the day.

  She’d have to just put up and shut up for a bit longer in the interests of the idea that was forming slowly in her mind. Some things couldn’t be rushed.

  Sometimes it felt like her whole life had involved covering up the truth, staying quiet when she really wanted to speak out, or painting a picture of herself that didn’t reflect the reality of who she actually was.

  * * *

  When Brendan had put her through her paces in a mini interview of sorts in his Manchester office, Holly had been forced to tell him what she thought he wanted to hear, rather than the unpalatable truth.

  ‘Markus tells me you were traumatised by that hellhole you were staying in last night,’ Brendan had said, surprising her with his bluntness.

  ‘Well, it… it wasn’t the best place,’ she’d replied, glaring at Markus and wondering if Brendan had been the one who’d arranged for them to stay there and was offended in some way.

  ‘I apologise,’ he’d said, flashing her that irresistible grin again. ‘I confess it’s a little test I like to give any prospective employees of mine.’

  ‘Test?’

  She’d looked at Markus and he had shrugged apologetically.

  ‘It tests mettle, you see,’ Brendan had explained cheerfully. ‘Anyone who can get through a whole evening in a place like that is the sort of person I can work with. Beats a load of pointless interview questions every time.’

  For a moment Holly was speechless.

  Markus coughed.

  ‘It was an awful place,’ she whispered. ‘Those people…’

  ‘They won’t be helped, unfortunately,’ Brendan said without emotion. ‘It’s a lifestyle choice that soon proves very difficult to escape from, once you’ve made the fateful decision to turn to drugs.’

  ‘It’s very sad nonetheless,’ she said quietly.

  Brendan had seemed so reasonable and nice, but given this new, cold attitude, she wasn’t sure what to think.

  She’d glanced at Markus, suddenly unsure of him too.

  ‘I take it you knew that last night was a test?’ She’d struggled to keep her voice level.

  ‘I… I kept telling you things would turn out fine,’ he’d said.

  Holly had felt like punching him. During the coach journey from Nottingham, she had repeatedly asked him what the arrangements would be once they arrived, but he’d played dumb. Now it was evident he’d been fully aware how terrified she was last night and had still chosen to say nothing.

  Brendan had clapped his hands and smiled.

  ‘Forget about it. You’ll be relieved to hear I’ve got a decent place for you both to stay, so I’ll take you there later. If things work out, could you start work tomorrow, Holly? Does that suit?’

  ‘Oh! Absolutely,’ she’d beamed, pushing the previous night’s ordeal to the back of her mind. It sounded a bit of a strange job that he’d outlined, but who cared? ‘I can’t wait. Thanks so much, Brendan.’

  ‘No. Thank you,’ he’d said, and reached over to pat her knee before turning to Markus again. ‘Just a thought, mate, can you pop out to Myra and get Holly an application form? Ask her if there’s anything else she needs.’

  ‘Sure.’ Markus had stood up right away, seemingly pleased to avoid Holly’s dagger-like stare. ‘I can do that now.’

  Holly had felt a stab of self-consciousness, wondering how long Markus would be gone and what she’d talk to Brendan about in the meantime, but she needn’t have worried.

  ‘So.’ He’d turned to look at her again. ‘While we have a spare five minutes, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Holly

  Holly had nodded and taken a deep breath. Her account would need to illustrate that she’d be an ideal employee. She didn’t want to inadvertently mention something that might overshadow her qualities.

  ‘Start right at the beginning,’ Brendan had said. ‘First of all, tell me about your parents.’

  Holly had been a little taken aback. She’d not expected this kind of questioning at all. It was time to think on her feet.

  Making sure to keep any traces of concern off her face, she’d begun to tell him about her parents. Only she’d described them as she’d have liked them to be, rather than the disaster that had been the real thing.

  ‘Dad was born down south, in Devon, and Mum was from Nottingham. They both loved the Midlands, I don’t think they would have ever moved if they’d still been here. When Dad came to work in the Midlands, he—’

  ‘Hang on. You said if they were still here; are they…’

  She’d nodded. ‘They’re both dead now.’

  It was only after she’d uttered the words and Brendan had raised an eyebrow that she realised it had sounded perhaps a little too blunt. Callous even. She’d known instantly she’d need to remedy it right away.

  ‘I’m sorry to just come out and say it like that,’ she’d said, looking at her hands. ‘I suppose it’s a defence mechanism I’ve developed over the years. Growing up, it was always the thing I dreaded. Where is your dad? I was young and it was just much easier to tell people straight, to take the emotion out of it.’

  ‘I understand completely,’ Brendan had said, nodding. ‘It must’ve been really hard for you.’

  ‘It was.’ She’d given him a weak smile. ‘But I’m fine talking about it now.’

  ‘And how – if you don’t mind me asking – did it happen that both your parents passed away, so untimely?’

  She remembered it had crossed her mind at that point that this was a pretty deep conversation to be having with a guy she’d only just met, even if he was to be her new employer.

  Certainly this kind of in-depth questioning – it felt like a s
ort of interview – wouldn’t happen in a regular job. There again, to be offered a position within a short time of meeting someone wasn’t that standard either. She guessed it worked both ways.

  ‘My dad was knocked down and killed as he crossed the road when I was only five years old, and my mum… well, she was a keen climber. She went out in adverse weather conditions in Derbyshire and slipped, falling to her death. That happened three years ago.’

  ‘My God, you poor thing,’ he’d murmured. ‘So, what happened to you when your mum passed away? Where did you go?’

  ‘My aunt and uncle took me in. I don’t know what I’d have done without them.’ She swiftly pushed aside thoughts of how she’d given the two of them a piece of her mind when she left the house.

  Holly had paused at that moment, had wondered where the lies had come from. Her dad had been knocked over crossing the road, but she’d failed to add that he had been a certified schizophrenic who hadn’t taken his medication for over a week.

  Coming up with a cause of death for her mother had been easy too. Holly had mentally rewound to the days when her mum had loved walking in Derbyshire. She’d often go alone, saying it cleared her head and helped her to feel better. That had been years ago, in the days before her drinking began.

  As a child, Holly would sometimes worry if it started to rain or the wind whipped up while her mum was out walking. She used to fear she might be blown off the side of Mam Tor or something similar.

  Put on the spot by Brendan, she had managed to concoct a touching story. Far better than admitting her father had been mentally ill and her mother a hopeless alcoholic. That wouldn’t have reflected very well at all on her own character, even though nobody had the luxury of choosing their parents.

  They’d talked for a while longer, Holly managing to come up with some interesting filler about being taught to value education and feeling secure and loved at home with her aunt and uncle.

  She managed to avoid telling Brendan how she’d twice been excluded from her old school for non-attendance. She could hardly say she’d been too tired to go to lessons after looking after her alcoholic mother, who’d been vomiting all night long.

  She felt inordinately pleased with herself that she’d managed to create such a passable upbringing. If only it had been true, her life mightn’t have been in such a mess.

  Markus returned to the room and Holly realised that she and Brendan had been chatting for about half an hour and it had all been about her childhood.

  ‘Well, you sound absolutely perfect for the role I have in mind, Holly.’ Brendan had smiled. ‘I’ll set up a meeting with my wife tomorrow, how’s that sound?

  ‘That sounds wonderful,’ she’d said, and for the first time in a while, she had spoken the truth.

  * * *

  The feeling of things going to plan felt incongruous now to Holly.

  There had been so much disappointment, sadness and tragedy already in her life, she’d almost accepted it would always be her cross to bear.

  But she hadn’t anticipated the job at Kellington’s going so well. Suddenly work felt like a massive priority to her. She thought of it as far more than a wage each month.

  It was the key that would open so many doors.

  If she continued with her successful sales record, she would soon have the money she desperately needed to enable her to change so much about herself and, more importantly, to fund whatever action was required to find Evan again.

  It was the most effective tool in changing her world as quickly as possible.

  She reached down for her laptop and opened it up on her knees, scowling at the bright screen.

  The browsing history window was open on the desktop. She had a habit of closing all windows at the end of each session. Besides, she couldn’t even remember looking at the browsing history.

  Still, she had to smile when she saw the list of entries.

  Searching for missing persons, identity documentation and tracing information online… it made her sound like some kind of secret agent or master criminal. If only her life were that exciting.

  She entered a few names into the Google search bar.

  David Lewis.

  Nick Brown.

  Cora Barrett.

  Baker Crescent.

  Nothing of any significance came up. She closed the laptop again in annoyance. Why couldn’t she just get a break for once?

  The people around her were keeping quiet about something that had happened to David. Nick Brown might have been involved too. And it seemed Cora knew all about it.

  Holly hadn’t been living here very long, but Cora trusted her enough to invite her to move into her home and give her her own set of keys… so why didn’t she qualify to be told the big secret about David’s traumatic past?

  It only served to make Holly more curious.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Holly

  The following morning, Holly boarded the bus for work with a spring in her step.

  After paying one of the now-familiar drivers and exchanging pleasantries, she took a seat in the middle of the half-empty vehicle.

  The bus set off, lumbering past the park and the big houses that gradually got smaller and smaller towards the outskirts of the city. There, the terraces and converted Victorian villas began to morph into raw, Brutalist-style apartment blocks set on disproportionately small squares of scuffed grass edged with vandalised wooden benches that nobody ever seemed to sit on.

  She felt lucky to be living with Cora in a nice spacious house in a leafy street in a good area. Not that things couldn’t change.

  She’d thought herself lucky to be living in a nice place all those years ago too.

  * * *

  When Brendan had first opened the door to the apartment in the Salford area of Manchester, he’d stood back and allowed Holly and Markus to enter first.

  ‘Wow!’ she’d breathed, hardly able to believe her eyes.

  They’d stepped straight into a large open-plan lounge overlooking the water. A glossy white kitchen fitted neatly into one end and a sleek beech laminate floor led to double French doors with a Juliet balcony.

  The room had been fully furnished, with petrol-blue couches, a compact dining table with four chairs, a fluffy rug, a coffee table and an impressive flat-screen television fixed to the wall.

  ‘There are two bedrooms and a bathroom through there.’ Brendan had pointed to another door, but Holly had her face pressed up against the window, taking in the view. ‘That’s the River Irwell you can see out there. I know this place is small, but it’s just for the next couple of nights, until we get you sorted out properly.’

  ‘A couple of nights?’ Holly had stared at him. ‘I could seriously live here for the rest of my life.’

  Brendan had laughed.

  ‘The business owns a few properties and we use this apartment for visiting delegates, that sort of thing. Trust me, it’s quite basic.’

  ‘It’s brilliant.’ Markus had nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  When Brendan had left, Holly turned and looked at Markus.

  ‘Why did you lie to me?’ she said accusingly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that Brendan had arranged last night as some kind of twisted test?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he sighed. ‘I didn’t know where we were stopping for sure. I thought it best to keep it to myself so you didn’t worry on the journey over.’

  ‘How considerate of you, and I thought we were friends.’

  ‘We are friends. I have myself to think of, too,’ he tried to reason. ‘I need to prove to Brendan that he can trust me to carry out his instructions. He told me you would be safe; that was the main thing.’

  ‘But it didn’t feel safe.’ Holly scowled. ‘You were scared too.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Markus said again. ‘Still friends?’

  ‘Suppose so.’ She’d looked around the apartment then, and despite her best efforts to stay annoyed with him, her smile had returned.

  She’d slipped off her shoe
s and danced around the room.

  ‘Manchester is simply the best!’ she’d sung to the Tina Turner tune. ‘I never in a million years thought I’d live somewhere like this.’

  ‘Well, like he said, it’s just for a couple of nights,’ Markus had said.

  ‘Don’t spoil it!’ She’d sighed and sat down on one of the comfy sofas. ‘I’m going to imagine this is home now. I’m not worrying about what happens in a couple of days’ time. Let’s enjoy it!’

  ‘I’m just saying… let’s not get our hopes up too much that this is how it’ll continue.’

  Holly had wafted her hand dismissively at his boring caution. More than anything, she wanted to immerse herself in this dream start to their new life in a big city.

  She’d sprung up again and darted into the kitchenette.

  ‘Small but perfect,’ she’d announced. ‘Just like the rest of it.’

  She’d gasped in amazement when she opened the outsize refrigerator and found it was stocked with provisions.

  A bottle of white wine, beer and orange juice sat alongside eggs, butter, yoghurts and milk. Likewise, the cupboards held pasta, bread and tinned produce, while further inspection revealed every piece of crockery or kitchen tool you could wish for, squirrelled away behind the immaculate glossy doors and drawer fronts.

  Markus had headed across the room, and together they stepped into a narrow hallway with four doors leading off. There were two reasonably sized bedrooms, one with a river view, and a sparkling white fully tiled bathroom with a big glass shower, while the fourth door revealed a storage cupboard containing an ironing board, hoover and other cleaning tools.

  ‘Neat.’ Markus had grinned, finally seeming to relax a little. ‘I suppose we might keep it, yes? Better than going back to last night’s accommodation, I think.’

  Holly had laughed without humour. ‘I’d rather sleep on the street than go back there.’