WATCHING YOU_The gripping edge-of-the-seat thriller with a stunning twist.

by Lynda Renham

  ‘I’m not going in,’ I say.

  I turn on my phone torch to see the flat numbers. Ewan’s is the one downstairs. The lights are off. I try to see in through the windows, but ivy is in the way. It’s a tatty place. I remember the gamekeeper’s cottage on the estate. Ewan had kept that so nice. He was always tidy. William told me that Dianne had come to collect Ewan’s stuff, shortly after he was sentenced. I wonder if he has any of it here in this flat. I peek again through the window but it’s impossible to see anything with the lights off. A car speeds around the corner with music booming and I freeze. The next one could be Ewan’s. I get back into the car.

  ‘Home please,’ I tell Grant.

  I know where Ewan lives. I know where he works. I have more money than he does. I have more power than he does. If this is a battle then I will surely win. I have a new laptop and a new phone. The other one is at home. If he is tracking me, then that’s where he’ll think I am. It occurs to me that I should take it out with me some days, just in case he gets suspicious. He won’t know I’ve been to his house and he won’t know I was at the nightclub. I wish I’d left a calling card. I want him to know that I’m now one step ahead. Ewan Galbreith needs to know he can’t intimidate me.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Fifteen years earlier

  Christmas

  Libby opened her present and feigned surprise at the Marc Jacob handbag and Chanel wallet. She’d been expecting exactly this. When Aunty Rose had asked her what she’d like for Christmas Libby had shook her head and said she had no idea. But when they’d gone Christmas shopping together she’d looked lovingly at the handbag and purses and knew that Aunty Rose had bought them while Libby was in the ladies’ room.

  They were perfect and she couldn’t hide her delight. She’d take them tonight when she met Patrick, providing he could get away. He hadn’t promised but she’d tantalised him with hints of her present to him. She knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

  ‘I’m so pleased you like them,’ smiled Aunty Rose.

  Libby had told her aunt and uncle that her friends were meeting up later to celebrate Christmas. Edward hadn’t seemed happy about her going.

  ‘But you’ve got your friends here for the evening. I’ll be bored to death,’ Libby had protested.

  ‘She’s quite right Edward, she will be,’ agreed Aunty Rose.

  Libby could always rely on Aunty Rose to stand up for her. Never having children themselves, Libby had become a daughter to her. Uncle Edward, on the other hand, was much tougher. He didn’t have much time for the fairer sex. They were too weak and whimsical for his liking.

  Now, she was getting ready to meet Patrick. She was trembling with the excitement of seeing him. She pulled on the new jumper she had bought. It was loose fitting and Patrick could slide his hands under it easily. She shivered at the thought. Patrick liked her hair up, so she twisted it at the neck and knotted it with a hairband. She couldn’t put too much make-up on in case Uncle Edward saw her. She could do that in the loo at the pub where she was meeting Patrick. She stroked the handbag and slid the bottle of whisky into it. Patrick would like that. It was single malt and expensive. Libby didn’t think Patrick had ever had his own bottle. She wondered if he had bought her something; probably not. He never had much money. If only she could get him a job at Manstead Manor. She sighed. She knew that would never work. She hesitated and then slid open her bedroom drawer and removed a card and a small box and then left her room. Aunty Rose was preparing the table in the dining room.

  ‘You look nice,’ she said.

  ‘I’m off, thank you for the lovely handbag. I adore it.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad. Have a nice time.’

  Libby nodded.

  ‘You too.’

  ‘Do you need a lift into town?’

  ‘I phoned for a taxi.’

  Libby didn’t want Aunty Rose taking her anywhere. Uncle Edward could easily get that information out of her and she didn’t want that.

  ‘Okay darling, take care,’ said Rose, distracted by the table layout.

  Libby hurried to the front door to see if the taxi had arrived. It was waiting for her.

  ‘The town centre,’ she said. ‘But can you stop at the gamekeeper’s cottage. It’s left along the drive.’

  Through a gap in the trees she could see the lights were on in Ewan’s cottage. She’d felt sure Ewan wouldn’t be home tonight.

  ‘Won’t be a sec,’ she said.

  She walked slowly towards the cottage. She could see the fire burning in the living room. How sad, she thought, to be all alone over Christmas. She knocked timidly on the front door. It was a while before it opened and for an awful moment she feared she may be interrupting something. What if he had one of his women here? What if they were …?

  The door opened and Ewan stood in front of her. He was barefoot. He smelt fresh, as if he had just got out of the shower. Libby sniffed the fragrance.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, surprised.

  She wondered if he thought she looked pretty.

  ‘Aren’t you cold without a coat?’ he said.

  ‘I’m on my way out,’ she replied, realising that didn’t answer his question.

  ‘Right,’ he said.

  She could hear soft music in the background and strained to see if anyone else was in the cottage.

  ‘I just came to wish you a Merry Christmas, and to give you this.’

  She pulled the gift quickly from her handbag before she lost her nerve. She waited for him to invite her in, but he didn’t.

  ‘That’s very nice of you,’ he smiled, but he didn’t reach out to take it. She held it towards him.

  ‘You really shouldn’t buy me presents,’ he said. ‘I’m just an employee.’

  ‘Uncle Edward buys you presents,’ Libby said haughtily.

  ‘He buys all the staff presents,’ said Ewan.

  Libby faltered. She didn’t know what to do with the gift now that it was in her hand.

  ‘It’s personalised,’ she said, blushing. ‘I can’t give it to anyone else.’

  ‘Just this once then,’ he smiled, taking the card and present from her. She stood awkwardly on the doorstep for a few moments.

  ‘Your cab’s waiting,’ Ewan said, nodding towards the car.

  ‘Yes, well Merry Christmas.’

  ‘You too, Libby.’

  He could open it, she thought. At least show his appreciation. But he didn’t. He just stood there, waiting for her to leave. She bet Peter wouldn’t have treated her like this.

  ‘Bye then,’ she said and hurried to the cab. She turned to wave but he’d already closed the door. She wondered if he was opening the gift and whether he would use the wallet right away. She hoped he liked it. It had been specially embossed with the shape of stag antlers. She knew how much Ewan loved the stags.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Present day

  Libby

  Lee smiles as I enter the lobby. It’s almost midnight. I feel confident and in control. I have my life back. My contracts are intact, well, most of them. I’m one step ahead of Ewan Galbreith. I have money, he has nothing. He was a fool to think he could intimidate me. He should have known I would not let him destroy me even more.

  ‘I have a package for you,’ Lee says.

  I try to ignore the churning stomach that these words produce. I collect the post from my mailbox and see the report from Mr Little among the pile. Lee returns with a bouquet of flowers and my heart sinks. I take them hesitantly and then see the card.

  These are from me. Thanks for a lovely evening. I’m looking forward to the weekend. Simon.

  I let out a long sigh.

  ‘Is everything alright, madam?’ Lee asks.

  ‘Oh yes, everything is perfect. How is James?’

  ‘Much better, thank you madam.’

  ‘Good. Did he mention my stalker problem to you?’

  Lee straightens his back.

  ‘No, he didn’t.’

  ‘N
o worries.’

  There’s no point showing a photo to Lee. Ewan could easily slip into the lift. People visit every day. He knows my address. He isn’t about to ask the concierge which flat. I have a bodyguard. I’m one step ahead.

  Grant presses the lift button and sees me to the apartment.

  ‘What time would you like me in the morning, madam?’

  ‘Ten should be fine.’

  He nods and steps into the lift. Merlin greets me as usual. It’s hot and stuffy in the flat and I’m grateful for the air conditioning. I turn off the alarm and switch on the air con. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of Merlin’s food.

  ‘Come on, darling,’ I say. ‘Let’s give you something fresh.’

  I yawn. It had been a long day and although it’s late I’m still feeling exhilarated at the steps I’d taken to deal with Ewan Galbreith.

  I grimace at the stench of Merlin’s food. It never smells this bad. I click on the light and recoil in shock. I stifle a scream at the sight of the mauled rat on the kitchen floor. The flowers slip from my fingers. Merlin purrs happily around my ankle. I swallow the bile in my throat and rush from the kitchen to the front door when I’m halted in my stride by the sound of music. I can’t breathe and my legs won’t move. Every Breath you Take is playing somewhere in the flat. My legs are immobile. I feel the tears running down my cheeks. Finally I stretch out a trembling hand to the door of the living room and stumble in. I hit the light switch and brace myself. There’s no one here. The music is coming from the kitchen. I retrace my steps and head back. The music is coming from the old phone that sits on the kitchen counter. I snatch it up and turn it off. I can’t think. My brain is numb with shock. Ewan has been in my flat, but how? It isn’t possible. I rush from the flat, down the stairs and to the foyer where Lee reels back as I yell at him.

  ‘Who has been in my flat? Who the fuck did you let into my flat?’

  ‘I … I didn’t let anyone into your flat.’

  ‘You must have. No one has a key apart from me and you.’

  ‘Miss Warren, I assure you I didn’t let anyone into your flat.’

  ‘You’re lying, you have to be,’ I say. ‘There’s a dead rat in there.’

  ‘You have a cat though, don’t you?’ Lee says.

  ‘He never goes out,’ I say angrily.

  I’m distraught. I’m shouting and waving my hands around. I know I should calm down. This is just what Galbreith wants.

  ‘I’ll call the police,’ he says.

  ‘No,’ I snap.

  I march back into the lift. How dare he? How fucking dare he? I’ve lost it. I’ve looked like a raving lunatic. I’ve given Ewan exactly what he wanted.

  *

  The police sergeant looks at me. There is sympathy in her eyes.

  ‘We’ve searched the flat,’ she assures me. ‘There are no cameras.’

  I sigh with relief.

  ‘Are you sure there is no way your cat could have brought in the rat?’

  ‘I have a stalker,’ I say.

  ‘Yes, Inspector Marshall informed us about him.’

  ‘Have you checked his movements?’

  ‘It’s not unusual for a cat to bring in a rat.’

  ‘My cat doesn’t go out,’ I say angrily.

  ‘According to the concierge, no one asked to come into your flat. Have you given keys to anyone?’

  ‘Are you insane? I have a stalker. I’m not in the habit of giving people keys. What about the music on my phone?’

  ‘The song is in your playlist.’

  ‘Of course it is. He sent it to me.’

  This is ridiculous.

  ‘There is no sign of forced entry. The concierge insists he didn’t let anyone into your flat …’

  ‘He would say that now, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘He’s extremely distressed by the whole thing. Now, if no one broke into your flat and the concierge didn’t let anyone in and you haven’t given Ewan keys then we have nothing to accuse him of.’

  I stare at her.

  ‘He’s intimidating me. He murdered my family,’ I say fighting back tears.

  She lays a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘I’m so sorry, but look at it from our side. There’s no break in, there’s no cameras. The only crime here seems to be a cat with a rat.’

  She gives me a sympathetic look. They think I’m having a breakdown. I’m playing right into Ewan’s hands.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say walking to the door.

  They’re happy to go. I sit back on the couch and clench my fist.

  ‘You fucker. You won’t win. You won’t fucking win.’

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Present day

  I jump at the sound of the door buzzer, spilling some vodka from my glass. I’d been sitting on the couch ever since the police had left. My mind is numb. I can’t seem to think straight. How did Ewan get into my flat? If Lee is telling the truth then there is no way it could have been possible, but somehow a rat found its way in here. Little’s report wasn’t much help. I already knew where Ewan lived and worked and according to Little, Ewan Galbreith hasn’t been near my flat.

  The buzzer sounds again and I force myself from my place on the couch.

  ‘Yes,’ I say into the intercom.

  ‘Sorry to bother you Miss Warren,’ says Lee, his voice uncertain.

  ‘No problem,’ I say.

  I feel bad about how I had shouted at him. I’ll buy him a bottle of wine as an apology.

  ‘Mr Simon Wane is here.’

  ‘Oh yes, that’s fine.’

  What is Simon doing here? I thought he had meetings all week. I check my reflection in the mirror, open the door and wait for him. Grant has gone home. There seemed little point in him just hanging around. I’ve got triple locks on the door. Unless Ewan has developed some kind of Houdini skill there is no way he could get inside. The lift pings and Simon steps out. He’s carrying a glass of bubbly and some chocolates.

  ‘Donna said you had something of a shock last night. I thought these may help.’

  ‘That’s kind, thank you,’ I say opening the door wider.

  He sees the vodka and smiles.

  ‘Ah, you’re already on the hard stuff.’

  ‘Yes. Can I offer you a drink?’

  ‘I’m driving, so just a small one.’

  I fetch a glass from the kitchen and pour a small measure of vodka and top it up with orange juice.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asks, sitting opposite me.

  I nod.

  ‘I think so. My brain is still whirring from it all. The police haven’t been at all helpful. Thanks for coming over.’

  ‘I did text, but it wasn’t received.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say, remembering. ‘I have a new phone. I meant to send you the number. The other one I’ve turned off, since the music …’

  ‘The music?’ he questions.

  I tell him everything that happened last night and then take a large gulp of vodka.

  ‘Do you think he’s been in the flat?’ I ask.

  ‘Not unless he can walk through walls. Who else has keys to the flat?’ he asks.

  ‘No one.’

  ‘It is a bit like Fort Knox in here,’ he smiles. ‘I thought I’d never make it to the loo in time the other night.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I say.

  ‘It’s fine. You need to feel safe.’

  ‘I don’t understand it. When I came home the door was locked. So how did he get in?’

  ‘Maybe he didn’t.’

  I nod and top up my glass.

  ‘Am I going mad?’ I ask worriedly.

  The thought had occurred to me several times. Was the fear and anxiety having a profound effect on me that I no longer knew what I was doing? How could Ewan get through locked doors?

  ‘You’re stressed,’ he says softly, laying a hand on my arm.

  ‘Merlin had a rat on the kitchen floor. It looked like she’d mauled it. But how could she have had a rat? She doesn’t go out. T
hen my music player started playing on my phone, just out of the blue. It was a particular song; it’s a song that Ewan used to play. It’s all so coincidental.’

  He drank his vodka and orange and then put the glass on the coffee table before taking my hand. His feels warm in mine.

  ‘The rat could have come from anywhere. Have you asked Lee if anyone else in the block has had problems with rats?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘What about the music?’

  ‘Maybe Merlin jumped on your phone?’

  Why does everything sound so plausible? I’m beginning to feel like a right fool.

  ‘Thank you for the flowers,’ I say, changing the subject.

  He smells nice. The alcohol has gone to my head, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands off him.

  ‘Shall we open the chocolates?’ I say, pulling off the wrapper. ‘I was going to watch a movie in a bit, to get my mind off things. What do you think?’

  He finishes his drink and checks the time on his phone. Surely he’s not going already.

  ‘I’ve got a meeting,’ he says apologetically.

  ‘This evening?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. I’ve freed the weekend so I can go to Padley with you.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing your house.’

  I thought he was going to say he was looking forward to spending the weekend with me. I consider asking him if he’d like to stay at William and Caroline’s beach house, but it seems a little forward and he does seem reluctant to get involved too quickly. Donna had said something about him getting over a bad relationship, so I guess that is why.

  ‘It will be relaxing,’ I say.

  He goes to stand up. I lean towards him and he hesitates.

  ‘Thanks so much for coming,’ I say.

  My lips touch his cheek and the smell of him is so exciting that I have to fight for control. Why doesn’t he grab me or kiss me? Instead he lays a hand on my knee and says,