PICTURES OF YOU: a gripping psychological suspense thriller

by Diane M Dickson

  “Hey, give it time, wait a while. You’ve always loved your place, don’t do anything rash.”

  “Oh I don’t know, perhaps it’s a good thing, maybe I should make more effort. One thing that I have learned from all of this is that I had become very set in my ways. I had a lovely unchallenging rut and maybe I was just a bit too comfortable with it, wasting my opportunities or not even looking for them. I mean, I’m not that old and when I look at it all from a different perspective well – another twenty, thirty years just living from day to day it’s a waste isn’t it?” Jane shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows.

  They ate and had another couple of drinks, they listened to some music. It was calm and wonderful.

  “I think I’m ready to call it a day if that’s okay, can I go up? Millie’s room yeah?”

  “Yes, go on up, I’ll just do the lights, check the doors and stuff. I’ve put you a towel in there. If you need anything let me know.”

  Mary closed the door to the little bedroom, there were posters on the wall and a collection of well-loved teddies gazed down indifferently from a shelf above the desk. Millie had been away at University for two years now and it was ages since they had done anything together. That was another area of her life that she would have to sort out. Although her Goddaughter came home to visit often, her place here looked denuded and pared back. The narrow bed was comfortable though and the main thing was it felt safe.

  As she snuggled beneath the covers Mary looked around for a clock but the gold alarm with its big bell, which had been a gift from her years ago, was apparently another of the personal things Millie had taken with her. She would set the alarm on her mobile phone. She pulled it out of the little pocket in her handbag and turned it on.

  It tinkled and dinged, moving through the boot sequence, but then there were more alert tones. She had forgotten about the text message which had come in earlier. It would be easier to leave it until tomorrow. If it was from Jacob she wouldn’t read it anyway, just delete it the same as all the others. Of course until she did that the reminder would beep at regular intervals and so with a sigh she clicked into the message field.

  The first one had his name on it. Her finger hovered over the button. He was no longer her problem. Was he? There was one from Judy, asking if she was okay and with a pang of guilt she responded. She apologised for not letting her know where she was and said she was safe and would like to meet her tomorrow if possible.

  There was another which had come in later from Judy asking if she had heard from Jacob as he was still missing and yet another later still. Had she and Jane really been talking for so long?

  She scrolled back to the first message and clicked delete. Though she had climbed the stairs heavy-lidded and weary, sleep was spiralling away. She turned the small device over and over. He was out there, in the ether yes, but also in the flesh. His bright eyes and his soft lips and his hands with their long sensitive fingers. The boy that she had adored.

  She wondered where he was, perhaps sitting on a park bench alone in the darkness, puzzled and confused. Then again maybe he was in a pub or a café or on the train away from her and she had no need to worry. Perversely she wished that she had read the text, but it was too late. The phone vibrated as another message popped onto the scrolling bar on the top of the screen.

  You are all around me. I can smell your perfume, I can see your things. I can feel you near me.

  She gasped and although she knew it was ridiculous she turned on the overhead light and peered around the room. Of course he wasn’t there, he couldn’t see her things, couldn’t feel her near. Unless. And then she knew just where he was, it was obvious, he had gone to where he thought he would find her. He was at her house.

  She slid from the bed and pulled on her clothes. Grabbing her keys and the mobile she crossed the room and the narrow landing. She tapped urgently on Jane’s door. It opened almost immediately and her friend stood in front of her in her pyjamas. “What is it, is something wrong?” Mary held out the phone and clicked the button to light the text message.

  “He’s at my house. I’m sure he is.”

  “Call the police, call them now.” Her friend pushed the mobile back into Mary’s hand. “Now, do it, dial 999.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Don’t be silly of course you can.”

  “No, I can’t, don’t you see? If I do then all of this has been for nothing. If I call them and he’s there what will they do? They’ll perhaps arrest him for breaking and entering, and then what? Then I’m back to the situation I was in before. I’ll have to tell them about him, about us and it’s all going to come out. My mum and dad will hear about it, I’ll have to go to court, they’ll find out about Chloe and I promised her that wouldn’t happen. I thought I was being so clever but look, I have just painted myself into a corner. I’ll never be free of him, never. Unless I go now and have it out with him.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, what are you thinking?”

  “Come with me Jane. If there are two of us then we’ll be safe. Come with me now and I’ll make him see that his best option is to go away and leave me alone. I’ll tell him that if he doesn’t I’ll go to the police.”

  “And will you?”

  “Oh, I…”

  “If you promise me that you will go to the police if he causes any trouble at all, then I’ll come with you now and let you give him this one last chance that he doesn’t deserve.”

  At Mary’s small nod Jane turned and scooped up her clothes from the bedroom chair.

  They drove in silence through the deserted streets. The phone was a mute companion though Mary held it on her lap the whole way.

  Once on the driveway in front of the dark house they sat for a while with just the click of the cooling engine disturbing the quiet.

  “No sign of life.” Jane was the first to speak and all Mary could do in return was shake her head. “Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he’s somewhere else. Is there somewhere else?”

  “No, he’s here, I know he is.”

  They climbed from the car and by instinct they closed the doors quietly, two small thuds and then the soft pad of their shoes on the pathway. The keys slid smoothly into the newly fitted locks and Mary raised a hand and pushed the painted wood. As she did she was swept with the memory of balloons and roses, of wine and laughter and of all the warm dreams and precious hopes that had crumbled and brought her to this moment.

  She felt for the switch in the darkness and flicked on the wall lights. They glanced into the dim living room as they passed on the way to the kitchen. The room was as neat and clean as she had left it, and as she moved towards the window to glance into the garden Mary reached out and slid the big knife from the block. She heard Jane draw in a breath.

  “He’s not here Mary.”

  “He is. I can feel him.” They joined hands and turned to the staircase climbing slowly.

  “If he’s here why is the place in darkness?”

  “I don’t know Jane, but he’s here,” and then she knew. She held out a hand to stop her friend, “Candles, can you smell them, he’s lit candles. He’s done it before.”

  “Your room then?”

  Mary peered at the floor and pointed to where a faint flickering light at the edge of the door frame proved her correct. “Will you wait here?” She felt rather than saw Jane shake her head.

  “No bloody way. You are not going in there on your own.”

  Mary reached her shaking hand towards the door knob, turning and pushing at the same time. The room was thick with perfume from the tea lights and candles that were on every surface. They saw him clearly on the bed, he was naked with just the sheet pulled to his waist. He was propped against the headboard and held a flute of sparkling wine.

  Jane stood by the door, a little afraid, a little embarrassed.

  “Jacob.”

  “I knew you’d come.” Then he leaned a little to the side, “Why is she here?”

  “She’s come to make sure
I’m safe.”

  “Safe, safe from what, from whom?” He flipped back the cover now and slid to the edge of the bed. Jane cast her gaze downward but Mary held hers on his eyes, shining in the candlelight.

  “Safe from you Jacob, to make sure you don’t hurt me.”

  “And why would you think I would do that?”

  “You did it before.” At this he gave a little toss of his head, dismissing the past. “Well no one would blame me if I did now, after what you’ve done. It was you and that bitch Judy, she always had it in for me. Just another woman who needs a lesson. Anyway, I didn’t come here to hurt you. I came to sort it all out. This has got completely out of hand and there is no need for it. We can put it behind us and go on. Okay, I admit that maybe I went a bit too far, I’ll give you that, and I’m sorry about it but look, let’s just move past it – yeah? You can publish a retraction, say it was a joke that got out of hand – something.”

  Mary felt Jane tense beside her, knew she was about to speak and so she squeezed her arm, spoke first. “No, Jacob, we can’t move on, we can’t get past it and you can’t apologise. You’re sick. You need help.”

  “Sick, for God’s sake listen to yourself. Sick. That’s the trouble with you lot today,” he waved a hand in their direction, “You just don’t understand the way things should be.”

  “Jacob, I’m not going to argue with you, I’m not going to forgive you and it’s not my job to make you see that what you did, what you think, is wrong. I just want you to go away. Go right away from here and I’ll leave it at that. If you won’t go then I’m calling the police and I’m putting it all in their hands. The photographs and everything, I’ll go to court and I’ll see you in jail for what you did to me.” He laughed then and stood before her. “No, no you won’t, don’t be ridiculous.” He stepped forward and she raised her hand holding the knife.

  “What the hell is that, what do you think you are doing with that?” She heard Jane click on her phone and the ping ping as she began to dial. He lunged past her towards her friend knocking the mobile to the floor and Mary reacted without thought, grabbing at him and raising the knife to his face. “Leave her, don’t touch her.” He spun now and grasped her wrist in his, twisting until she screamed with the burn of it and the blade dropped from her hand. Now he had her, one arm across her chest the other round her stomach, lifting her bodily to fling her towards the bed. He threw himself across her and though she clawed and twisted he had her pinned against the mattress.

  The flash took them both by surprise and they turned to where Jane stood with the phone retrieved from the floor. She was taking snap after snap of them and in her other hand was the knife held before her like a rapier. She was screaming now, “Get off her, just get off her, or I swear I’ll kill you.”

  He spun away from the bed and Mary launched herself after him, clinging to his waist and he stumbled and as he fell to the floor she leapt on top of him. Jane joined her and they both sat across his back. She leaned towards him and held the knife at his face, the point against his skin.

  “I have it all on my phone asshole. All recorded and it’s up to you what happens to it.” He tried to speak but she dug the knife a little deeper, a drop of blood coloured the pale skin of his cheek. “No, just listen. You are going to get up now, you are going to get dressed and then you are getting out of here. You are leaving tonight. I don’t give a shit where you go but you are going now and you are never coming back. If you come near my friend again, near this town again, then these pictures are going straight to the authorities, and not only that, they are going to the newspapers, the television, they are going on Facebook and Twitter, they are going to go so bloody viral that you won’t be able to go anywhere that they don’t know you for the woman-beating coward that you are. I don’t care about your past, your history is of no interest to me. You are a pig, and a bully. Now, do you understand me?”

  She poked again at his face, he moved against the carpet and they heard him whisper. “Pass his clothes Mary.” As he dressed she stood behind him, the knife close to him poking at him when he paused. They could tell though that the fight had gone, whether it was the shock or the threat of exposure, it didn’t matter, he did as Jane told him to.

  At the front door he paused and looked back at Mary standing on the bottom of the stairs, her arms wrapped protectively around her chest. He opened his mouth, drew in a breath but before he had the chance to speak Jane moved forward, still with the knife held now at arm’s length.

  He turned and walked away, down the path and then right and towards the main road.

  Chapter 71

  They locked the house and drove away, turned left and wound through the narrow roads. “I don’t know what to say to you Jane. I don’t know how to thank you.” Jane shook her head.

  “I can’t, I can’t talk. I never knew I had that in me, that violence, I never thought I could feel such hate. It’s scared me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, no it’s not your fault – none of it is your fault.”

  “It feels like my fault, you could have been hurt, we both could have been and you tried to tell me didn’t you? You tried to tell me that day in the café and I was so blind, stupid and flattered.”

  “Mary, you were being human, that’s all. You were looking for love and we all have the right to do that.”

  “I can never repay what you’ve done tonight, you know that don’t you?”

  “There’s no need, we’re friends, we’ve always been friends. I’m so glad everything’s okay with us now, but I do feel bad, you know, about my reaction. I cried and cried about it, I was a real bitch. Then I called your mum and I shouldn’t have done, but I was worried about you. I am so sorry; I don’t get any satisfaction, you know, out of what happened. I did come to see you once to tell you I was sorry but I don’t think you were in.”

  Now was not the moment to admit that she had watched from the window as Jane had walked away.

  “Can I stay again tonight? Just tonight and then tomorrow well I’ll think about that in the morning.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “I do need to go and meet Judy though and I think I have to tell her what happened. Why don’t you come as well? You’d like her.”

  “Okay, yeah, I think that would be good.”…

  The sun warmed the bright kitchen as they sat together drinking coffee and nibbling at toast, they hadn’t slept but now it was morning and time to move. They didn’t speak, didn’t relive the events of the night before; it was too big, too awful to discuss, and so they listened to the birds and the children in the road and they struggled with their thoughts.

  They heard the car, the engine rumbled outside in the road, and there was the sound of doors slamming. It wasn’t a busy street but there was no reason to assume that the noises were anything to do with them, not until the doorbell chimed.

  Jane waved a hand at Mary, stay there, I’ll go. She strode through the lounge and into the little square hallway. Through the glass of the front door she could make out two figures. A frown creased the skin of her forehead as she leaned forward and put the safety chain in to the slider.

  She opened the door, just a crack and the two tall figures turned to peer at her and then raised their hands to show their warrant cards. Jane’s heart leapt into her mouth, something had happened to Millie, her daughter was hurt. With quivering hands she slipped the chain and pulled open the door.

  “What’s happened, is it Millie, what’s wrong?” The words tumbled over her tongue in panic, her heart was pounding her throat dry.

  The taller of the two smiled at her but his eyes were wary, he had done this job before and knew just how easily things could slip out of control. “Sorry to bother you madam, but we are looking for Mary Roland.”

  “Oh thank God.” For just a moment relief wiped out everything else but then reality kicked back in.

  “Are you Mary Roland madam, or is she here? We have been told that maybe she is
staying here.”

  Mary had heard the voices and left the kitchen. Standing in the hallway behind Jane her heart chattered and jumped. There was something wrong. The police were here, looking for her, how did they know she was here, only Judy knew?

  “I’m Mary, Mary Roland. What’s happened?”

  “A friend, Judy Allbright gave us this address. We need to ask you a couple of questions. Are you acquainted with Jacob Chadwick madam, a student at the college?”

  “Yes.” Her mind was racing now and the one word was all she could manage.

  “Do you mind if we come inside? We need to speak to you.”

  Jane opened the door and ushered them through into the living room. They took off their hats and then the taller one spoke again. “It might be better, Ms Roland, if you sat down. We have some rather upsetting news for you.”

  She didn’t need a second telling, all the strength had gone from her legs, she and Jane reached to each other and sat side by side hands entwined, waiting.

  Chapter 72

  Jane and Judy went with her. They stood in silence. They held hands as the wind whipped at their coats and lifted their hair. The weather had changed now and the balm of summer seemed to have fled; suddenly and completely, it was over. Mary was glad of the blustery disturbance; she could blame her tears on blown grit, just the weather.

  Jane hadn’t known him and so had no need for grief, Judy had known the worst of him and so had no tears to shed for his damaged soul. Mary though had seen the best of him and it was the best of him that caused the ache in her heart and the moisture in her eyes as the vicar droned on about time and misery and dust.

  There was to be an inquest of course, but at least they had been allowed to lay his body to rest. As she peered into the hole in the damp earth Mary shuddered. Bill had been cremated. The thought of Jacob’s beautiful young body lying in the ground slowly disintegrating was ghastly.

  She peered from under her brows at the family who stood at the other side of the grave. His mother, dry eyed but pale and hollow-looking, his brother who seemed impatient and uncomfortable. There was no one who she could identify as a father and no sister. It was a surprisingly small turnout for a young person and again this made her sad.