While You Slept
Page 1
While You Slept
R. J. PARKER
One More Chapter
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www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020
Copyright © R. J. Parker 2020
Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
R. J. Parker asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008382797
Ebook Edition © 2020 ISBN: 9780008382780
Version: 2020-07-02
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by R. J. Parker
About the Publisher
To the mighty Carr family – Dave, Eimear, Benjamin and Beibhinn – who know what it takes to build a home and fill it with love.
Chapter 1
An intruder was standing motionless in Lily Russell’s back garden, and when she saw him, she stood from her swivel chair and released an incoherent exclamation.
It was a sunny September lunchtime and the man was stock-still in the middle of her small lawn as if waiting for her to see him there. He was wearing jeans and a dark-coloured sweat top with the hood pulled over his head.
But it wasn’t his presence that alarmed her the most. It was his face. It was tilted up so she could get a good look.
He was wearing the smile of her daughter. A cut-out mask of her five-year-old’s laughing features with holes cut out of her eyes for his to look through. Maisie’s innocent countenance on his adult body resonated cold at Lily’s core.
But Lily couldn’t rush out into the garden. She wasn’t at home. She was at work. The intruder and her lawn were over sixteen miles away. The motion detector in her garden had sent an alert to the app on her phone.
Lily glanced briefly up from the handset at her three colleagues who had reacted to her cry and turned from their desks in her direction. Most of the team had gone to the park for their break and it was the usual crowd who had stayed on to work through their lunch.
‘What’s up?’ Martin Pickton asked, his wide-eyed reaction mirroring hers.
Lily’s attention returned to the security app on her phone. ‘Somebody’s standing in my garden.’
Martin rose from his seat, but Julie Medlocke reached her first.
She squinted at the black and white image. ‘Jesus. Is that?’
Lily nodded. ‘It’s Maisie’s … face.’ She felt goose flesh on the backs of her arms. ‘Tell me this isn’t any of you.’ But, even if her colleagues did ever play practical jokes, she knew nobody could be capable of this. She didn’t wait for a response but immediately hit the microphone button at the bottom of the display. ‘Get out of there! I’ve called the police!’
The figure didn’t move.
Was the mini speaker beside the kitchen window not working? She’d had some glitches with it since she’d had the system installed. She should be able to speak to anyone through the app who came to the front or back doors. Nobody could access the rear of the property. Lily had had the second speaker positioned there so she could shoo away the flock of pigeons that frequently congregated on the wall to use it as a toilet.
The figure angled their head further up and suddenly they were looking directly at her through the camera that was positioned above the kitchen window. He had heard her. His eyes fixed on her through the face of her daughter.
‘They’re coming now. The police are coming right now!’ Lily yelled at her phone.
The intruder didn’t seem perturbed by her threat. Didn’t move.
‘I’m calling them.’ Bridget Holby was already dialling her phone.
‘Take that off!’ Lily shouted at the phone. ‘Take that off and get out of there!’
The man looked theatrically around the garden with Maisie’s happy face and then waved at the camera. A child’s wave, palm open, four fingers rippling.
‘Try and keep him there until the police arrive,’ Martin said over her left shoulder.
‘What’s you address?’ Bridget asked.
Lily couldn’t think of what else to say to him. Or had the tiny wave made her think twice about shouting and swearing in the way she felt compelled to?
The man dropped his hand and continued staring at her through the camera.
‘Lily, your address,’ Bridget asked again.
‘Number 8 Fallstaff Gardens.’
But before Bridget could relay the information the figure had turned and started leisurely walking away.
‘He’s leaving. Quick, Bridge!’ Martin ordered.
But the figure jumped onto the back wall, scrambled over and disappeared out of sight.
Chapter 2
‘Sit down and think a minute.’ Julie put her hand on Lily’s shoulder.
But Lily didn’t
want to. She ran her hand through her long red hair and paused her palm on top of her head. ‘Are the police calling back on your number?’
‘I just told you that,’ Bridget reassured her. ‘They’re sending someone over to your address now.’
‘I have to go home.’ Lily was pushing past her three colleagues.
Martin was blocking her way with his considerable frame. He’d conceded the battle with his bachelor fast-food lifestyle but still sank into frequent depression about it. ‘Wait. If their usual response time is anything to go by you might actually beat them there.’
‘Let them make sure it’s safe first.’ Bridget Holby held her gaze with her wide green eyes. She was the new intern and in her early twenties. Compact, slim, with her fair hair shorn elegantly close to her head, her heart was in the right place, but she infuriated everyone by behaving like a world-wise den mother.
Lily tried to move past them.
Julie took hold of Lily’s wrist. ‘Where’s Maisie?’
Lily halted.
Julie glanced at her watch. ‘Another few hours till she gets out of school, right?’
Lily nodded, found the number for All Saints and dialled.
‘I’m sure she’s safe.’ But Julie’s face was as pensive as the others while Lily waited for a reply.
‘All Saints.’ An elderly female voice answered.
‘Hello, I have a pupil with you, Maisie Russell.’
‘Oh, hello, Mrs Russell.’
‘Hi, Mrs Hooper.’ Lily knew the starchy secretary from the school’s orientation day. Maisie had been overcome by everything she had to remember and so had Lily. ‘I’m sorry to bother you but can you put my mind at rest and tell me if Maisie is in class? I think she should be with Mr Dalton this afternoon.’
‘Lunchtime has just finished. They should all be coming back to class now. Anything wrong?’
‘I just need to know she’s there.’
Mrs Hooper paused. ‘Why would you have any reason to believe she—’
‘Just tell me,’ Lily said brusquely. ‘Sorry, I just … can you tell me.’
Mrs Hooper inhaled. ‘Very well. I’ll just look out of the window. They’re all standing in line to come back inside.’
Lily tried to restrain her panic. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’ She waited and listened to Mrs Hooper’s breathing under hers.
‘Yes. I can see her.’
Lily felt relief filter through her. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes. Quite sure,’ Mrs Hooper replied with a trace of irritation.
‘What is she wearing?’ She knew Mrs Hooper wore thick specs.
‘An orange top.’
That was her. But Lily’s shoulders remained tight. ‘Thank you. Can you please let her know that I’m coming to pick her up?’
‘Why? She still has classes.’
‘It’s an emergency.’
‘Oh dear, what sort of emergency?’
‘But please don’t tell her that. Can you take her to your office? I should be over in half an hour.’
‘Yes … all right. If you feel you have to.’ Mrs Hooper didn’t sound sure now.
‘Half an hour, I’ll meet you at your office.’ Lily hung up before she could protest.
‘OK?’ Julie asked.
Lily nodded and gulped.
‘OK, just try to calm down. Go and pick Maisie up and I’ll cover for you here.’
‘Thanks.’ Lily had worked with Julie for three years. They were both single mums and always had each other’s backs at work.
Julie flipped the fringe of her henna bob out of her face and fixed Lily with her sharp blue eyes. ‘This isn’t Ewan up to his usual?’
It had immediately occurred to Lily. It felt like her ex-husband’s ugly circus had left town a long time ago, but it had only been just over a year since the divorce was finalised. ‘That wasn’t him in the garden.’
Martin was still hovering, breathing heavily. He didn’t cope well with the heat and the ring of hair around his bald pate was plastered to his head. ‘Can you take another look?’
He was right. Lily returned to the app and accessed the camera recording archive. She opened the most recent file and dragged the slider at the bottom of the black and white clip. The figure dropped back into her garden, walked backwards and turned around on the spot. She paused the recording.
She shivered inwardly as she caught the end of the wave to her via the camera. It wasn’t Ewan. Ewan was a foot shorter and not as well-built.
‘That’s twisted.’ Martin was at her shoulder and breathing onion against the side of her face.
‘He must know you. How else could he have got the photo of Maisie?’ Bridget observed.
Lily looked at the three framed photos of her fair-haired daughter on her desk then back to the smiling mask of her. Her front teeth were showing and there was no gap. The picture the intruder had used had to have been taken recently. Where was it from? Had he stolen it? Lily didn’t use Facebook or post any photos of Maisie online. She didn’t like sharing with anyone other than people she knew. Didn’t like to think of strangers looking at images of her. Or Ewan having access to their life.
Bridget’s phone rang and she answered. ‘Yes. Thank you. I’m not the owner of the property so I’ll just pass you over.’ She held it out to Lily. ‘The police. They’re at the house.’
Chapter 3
A squat uniformed male officer opened the driver’s door of his patrol car as soon as she got out of her Nissan. ‘Mrs Russell?’
‘Yes.’ She wasn’t Mrs Russell, but she hadn’t reverted to her maiden name yet because she didn’t want Maisie to experience any more confusion than she already had. Or was it because, despite everything that had happened between her and Ewan, a small part of her misguidedly hoped there was still the chance of a reconciliation?
‘Police Constable Michaels. I’m sorry but I couldn’t access the garden.’ The straight fringe of his unkempt fair hair was dark with sweat. The officer closed his front door.
She closed hers. ‘Couldn’t you have climbed over the wall, like he did?’ But she realised she’d snapped at the officer.
‘I checked the passage behind it but I couldn’t get a foothold,’ he mitigated.
Lily estimated him to be at least in his mid-thirties. Wasn’t he a little old to be a constable? Maybe that and his conspicuous paunch were why he hadn’t been able to scale it.
Maisie knocked on the window of the back passenger door.
Lily nodded emphatically at her. ‘Just stay there a moment. We’ll go inside in a minute.’
The officer smiled encouragingly at Maisie and then held up his hands. ‘I’m sure your intruder is long gone, but I’d rather go in and make sure everything’s OK first.’
‘I know it’s clear. Look …’ Lily showed him her phone with her security app open. She quickly flicked through the rooms of her house that were covered by the mini cameras. ‘Empty. And so is the garden.’ She jabbed her finger at the black and white image.
Officer Michaels seemed intrigued. ‘And you spoke to him via this?’
‘Yes. Told him to leave. Look.’ She played him the clip of the intruder in the garden. ‘That’s my daughter’s face.’
Officer Michaels studied the screen and frowned his faint eyebrows. Then he looked again to where Maisie had her face pressed against the window. ‘That’s … unsettling.’ He shook his head. ‘Not just an opportunist then.’
Lily wanted to scream no, but retained her composure for Maisie’s benefit and shook her head.
Officer Michaels straightened, as if suddenly realising he hadn’t been summoned to a routine break-in. ‘Any ideas who might do something like this … a friend … maybe for a prank?’
‘Would a friend really do something like this?’
Officer Michaels grimaced, as if chiding himself for asking the question. ‘Nobody you could think of who has a grudge against you?’
‘An ex. He’s behaved erratically in the past …’
The officer narrowed his green eyes at her and nodded as if they’d found their explanation.
‘But that’s not him in the clip,’ she added quickly. ‘And I really don’t think this is something he’d do.’
‘When people are overtaxed … emotionally … particularly where children are involved, you’d be surprised what they’re capable of.’
Lily wondered if he was talking from more than just his experience as a police officer.
‘You should give me his details.’
‘Of course. His name is Ewan Russell but I think it would be a waste of time. He’s never tried to scare us. Not deliberately anyway.’
Officer Michaels regarded her with a trace of fatigue, as if she were making excuses for him. ‘When was the last time you saw him?’
‘Probably about eight months ago.’ But she knew for certain it was eight months and three weeks.
‘Under what circumstances?’
‘He came to see Maisie before he went away. He lives in Dundee now. Working for his brother.’
‘And how were things between you then?’
‘Not good but civil. I won full custody of Maisie. He’d resigned himself to that and I thought leaving London was his way of responding. He’s always run away. It’s his default setting.’ Lily felt like she was sharing too much.
‘And you’re sure he’s not around?’
‘No.’ She had to be honest about that. But even though Ewan had lied to her in the past she still couldn’t believe that he would be capable of what had happened in the garden. Even if he’d got someone else to do it for him.
Maisie knocked the window again.
Lily beckoned to her. ‘OK. Come and say hi to the policeman.’
Maisie opened her car door.
Lily turned to him. ‘Shall we take a look now then?’
Chapter 4
‘Hello, missy,’ Officer Michaels said to Maisie as she climbed out of the car.
Maisie reluctantly lifted her dark-blue eyes to him. They were almost as dark as Lily’s. Then she focussed on the kerb as she stepped down to it.
‘She’s a little shy,’ Lily explained. That was an understatement. She only spoke above a whisper at home and had yet to make any friends at school. She’d been there for a couple of weeks, and Lily had hoped the other kids would bring her back out of her shell. It appeared she was already being bullied though. Lily was positive the divorce and the events that had led up to it had made her so withdrawn. She’d been such an outgoing girl beforehand. Lily thought the ugliness at home had been insidious and hadn’t realised how sensitive Maisie had been way before all the resentments had manifested themselves. Now she felt as though she’d lost a connection with her daughter and guilty that Maisie blamed her for not being able to see her father. Most telling was the fact that Maisie used to call her ‘Mamma’ but now didn’t use any name for her. Treading the path between overcompensating for that and trying to bring her up with love and discipline was a daily trial. ‘I’ve told her exactly why she had to come home so early from school.’