On Saturday morning, she loaded up her multi-coloured, 1996 Volvo estate. After a teary farewell, Hannah left for Manchester.
The flat she’d found through an agency was in Cheadle, a suburb of Greater Manchester, and was around eight miles outside the city. It would take her twenty minutes to the office by car or fifteen minutes by train. There had been quite a lot of flats to choose from, but the one she settled on had been newly decorated, and came fully furnished.
She’d taken a week off work to organise the flat, and acclimatise herself to the area.
Pulling up outside the 1900s style four-storey converted building, she knew it had been the perfect choice.
There were three flats on each floor. Hers, 4b, the middle one on the top floor, had a lovely view of the garden and an open outlook.
The décor and furnishings were top quality and neutral colours, which would make it easy for her to later add a little of her own personality. But, the best part, in her opinion, was the dinky steel balcony, filled with two chairs, a table, and four lavender-laden planter boxes.
By Sunday lunchtime, she’d unpacked her car, and everything she possessed had a new home.
Wanting to be neighbourly, she baked two batches of cookies, using her mammy’s fool-proof recipe.
She called at 4c first. She’d heard shuffling through the wall all morning, so she knew the occupants were home.
The door swung inwards as soon as she knocked, startling her. She squealed and jumped backwards, almost throwing the cookies in the air.
An attractive man, who appeared to be in his late twenties-early thirties, stepped towards her, his arm held out as though to catch the container, if she did indeed let it go. “Sorry, I was just behind the door when you knocked,” he said, in an American accent.
She laughed. “I’m Hannah. I moved in next door yesterday, and to say ‘hi,’ I brought you some cookies.”
“Oh my God! You’ve only been here five minutes, and you’re already baking. It took me at least two weeks to find the stove when I moved in.”
“Well, I didn’t cook myself a meal last night, and I probably won’t tonight, if that makes you feel any better.” She grinned. “But, I figured making cookies was the neighbourly thing to do.”
“Hey! You won’t find me complaining.” He took the offered plastic tub, covered with an ill-fitting lid, and peered inside. “Beautiful and a wiz in the kitchen to boot!” He fluttered his eyelashes at her.
She laughed, delighted to have such a fun and down-to-earth neighbour.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Actually, I just planned to introduce myself, and then pop to the flat on the other side, too.”
“Diane works nights as an ER doctor at Cheadle Royal Infirmary. I’d leave it an hour or two, before you go knocking on her door.”
Hannah winced. “Gosh, I’m glad I came here first, then—that wouldn’t have been a good way to meet the neighbour.”
“Tell you what. How about I ask you and Diane to come over here for a drink this afternoon? That way, we can all get to know each other at the same time.”
“That sounds like fun. What time?” Hannah asked.
“Shall we say around three? Then, if Diane’s working tonight, it shouldn’t interfere with that.”
She nodded. “Fine by me. I’ll bring the wine.”
“Something tells me I’m going to enjoy having you as a neighbour. I’m Simon, by the way. Simon Fowler.”
Hannah went back to her flat, and, after cleaning the kitchen, she took her Kindle out onto the balcony.
The June sun peeked out from the clouds, and she lifted her face to bask in the rays. Manchester was also known as ‘the rainy city,’ but she’d heard the summers were, on average, warm and pleasant. But, this was the first time the elusive sun had made an appearance since her arrival.
Startled by a sound to the side of her, she opened her eyes and watched her neighbour, Simon, come out onto his balcony.
He stretched and scratched his balls, clearly oblivious of her presence.
Hannah stifled a giggle, as she watched him through the bamboo partition between their balconies.
He bobbed back inside briefly, returning with a newspaper and a large bag of peanut M&Ms.
She coughed as he reappeared, letting him know she was there.
“Hi, again,” he said.
She dipped her Kindle down and peered over the top of it. “Hello.”
“I left a message for Diane. She’s not got back to me yet. I’m sure she will though. Want one?” He tipped the bag of M&Ms towards her.
She laughed. “No, thanks.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting, and, just before three, she excused herself, and knocked at his front door a couple of minutes later, with a bottle of wine under each arm.
Simon barked out a laugh and ushered her inside.
After an hour passed, they presumed Diane couldn’t make it. But, that didn’t make any difference to them. They got on like old friends, and seemed to have the same warped sense of humour.
Hannah told him all about her new job, and moving away from her family.
Simon could relate to her being homesick. He’d left his hometown of Seattle, USA four years ago, with his then girlfriend.
“Once we’d actually moved in together, this woman I’d left my whole life for turned into a psychotic shrew. I couldn’t get away from her fast enough.”
She giggled. “How come you didn’t go back home?”
“I’d got a decent job by then. I’m an Operations Manager for Texaco, but I’m working out a month’s notice, then I’ll go home for a few months.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. And just when I thought I’d found my first friend in the area.”
“I’ll still be your friend.” He grinned, and looked her up and down suggestively.
She laughed, and flicked her hand his way.
“I’m teasing. No, I’m sure you’ll have plenty more friends by the time I leave.”
“What will you do with this place?” She glanced about the neat and tidy flat.
“I don’t know if I’m coming back yet, so I’ll leave it empty until I decide. Maybe my new best friend will keep an eye on it for me?”
A knock sounded at the door.
Simon glanced at the wall clock. It was 5.30pm. “Be back in a sec.”
Moments later, he returned with a short, dark-haired woman, who was chattering nonstop.
Hannah didn’t catch a word.
“Diane, this is Hannah—she’s our lovely new neighbour,” Simon said.
Diane took Hannah’s hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “I’d heard the place had been let, but I wasn’t sure when you were moving in.”
“It was a rush job, I’m afraid. I got a transfer from work, and there was no point wasting time.”
“Hannah’s never lived away from home before,” Simon volunteered.
“What? Never?” Diane said, her mouth agape.
Hannah chuckled. “There was never any reason to move out. I worked close by, and Mammy’s a terrific cook.”
“I don’t blame you,” Diane said. “I couldn’t wait to get a place of my own, and ended up running home to my parents several times before I left for good. I still wish I lived at home sometimes when I get home from work and have to cook and clean for myself.”
“Hear, hear,” Simon said. “Glass of wine?”
Diane shook her head. “I only have ten minutes, then I’ll need to get ready. We’re short-staffed at the hospital, and I’m doing a double shift.”
“When will you sleep?” Hannah asked, shocked.
“Sleep? What’s that?” Diane laughed, rolling her eyes. “Hopefully, if it’s not too busy, I’ll be able to snatch forty winks.
Soon after, they all parted ways, promising to meet up again soon.
Hannah returned to her flat, suddenly feeling less homesick and alone.
*
Hannah spent the week exploring the
immediate area, and was thrilled to discover a shopping centre within walking distance of the flat. She also found several second-hand shops, and managed to buy the rest of the things she needed, without blowing her budget.
On Wednesday, Diane invited her in for a coffee. They got on famously, and Hannah prayed she would be as fortunate in her new job.
By Sunday evening, the place looked like home. Hannah opened a bottle of wine and sat on the balcony, watching the sun go down.
Her parents called to wish her luck for the following day. They seemed much happier once she told them about her new friends, and she promised to call them with a blow-by-blow account when she arrived home tomorrow.
Her stomach did a funny jiggle every time she thought about her new job. She’d had a trial run on the train a few days ago, and knew exactly where to go. In fact, the station was on the very next block to the company, so she had no concerns on that score.
She hoped she would get on with the rest of the staff. Coming from the slow environment she was used to, she was worried she’d be out of her depth.
Hannah hardly slept a wink, and got out of bed well before dawn. She spent the early hours soaking in the bath and preparing her outfit. She left far too early, and sat outside the offices on a bench for a while.
As she watched the people go in and out, Hannah wondered if she would be working with any of them. They all appeared cheerful, which was a good sign—but she would soon find out.
Chapter 5
Just before 8.30am, Hannah made her way to reception, and asked the pretty receptionist to let Angela Beanie know she had arrived.
She took a seat on one of the beige leather sofas to the right of the desk area. After browsing for a few minutes through one of the company’s promotional magazines, she noticed a shadowy figure approach her. She turned to see a security guard.
“Hello again, Ms McLaughlin,” he said, extending his hand to her. “Angela’s caught in traffic, and has asked me to escort you up to your office, and get you settled.”
***
Don had screwed up the security roster on purpose to ensure he’d still be there to greet Hannah. After his night shift, he showered and doused himself with aftershave, before changing into a freshly laundered shirt.
His racing heart turned to stone the instant he realised she didn’t recognise him. He’d thought of nothing else but her since their last meeting, yet she could barely offer him a smile. He wanted to punch something.
For the second time in as many weeks, he was reminded of Clair Dietrich. All he’d needed from her had been loyalty. He’d watched her for months, set up several state-of-the-art cameras around her flat, and he would’ve been happy with that, if she’d stayed true to him—but she couldn’t. Clair was weak, like every other woman he’d known, and she’d fallen for her drug-addicted colleague. If that wasn’t bad enough, the druggie had been trying to convince her to try cannabis. He’d had no choice but to rescue poor Clair from such a dangerous situation.
The lift door opened, and the bell startled him.
Once again, he escorted Hannah up to the fifteenth floor.
He tried to make small talk, but she remained monosyllabic in her responses, seeming miles away, as she gazed through the glass taking in all the new sights.
As the lift stopped, Don’s earpiece crackled to life. “Ms. Beanie has entered the garage level two.”
He led Hannah to the staff room, and offered to make her a drink, but she declined with a shake of her head. He knew he should make allowances for her—she was clearly terrified, but he’d never been able to tolerate bad manners.
“Ms. Beanie will be with you shortly, miss,” he said, before heading back down to the ground floor.
Inside the lift, he pressed the emergency stop button and roared, punching the console three times. He paced the small distance, and tore at his hair. Why did it always happen to him? One thing was certain—if he couldn’t have her—no other fucker would.
He began snapping at the thick elastic band at his wrist—a technique he used to keep his temper under some kind of control.
After a few minutes, he pressed the lift button again, straightened his tie, and brushed down his jacket, stepping into the foyer, smiling broadly.
***
Angela appeared moments after the security guard left. She seemed flustered, and couldn’t apologise enough.
“No problem. I’ve only just arrived myself.”
“Did Don show you to your desk?”
Hannah shook her head.
“Introduce you to the team?” She raised her eyebrows in question.
“No.”
Angela exhaled noisily. “If you want a job doing…” she grumbled. “Come on. Let’s show you around.”
Hannah tried to memorise all the names of the people she would be working alongside, but she knew it was pointless. She shook hands with each of them, but all the other information Angela volunteered went in one ear and straight out the other.
After Angela showed her the staff gym on the basement level, and canteen on the fourth, they headed back to the fifteenth floor.
“Ah, there you are,” a male voice said from behind them, as they exited the lift.
They stopped, and spun around.
A tall, broad man, dressed in an immaculate grey suit, sauntered towards them.
Hannah gasped. She barely recognised Maxwell Myers from the grainy image she’d seen. He was even more ruggedly handsome in the flesh. His mid-length, brown hair was fashionably messy, and his dark brooding eyes had a mischievous glint, but it was his easy smile and full, luscious lips which caused Hannah’s stomach to twirl.
“Sorry, Max. Have you been looking for me?” Angela said. “I was just showing Hannah around.”
“Yes, I can’t find the Steadman file. I’ve searched everywhere.”
“Did you check my desk?”
“No. Why would I check your desk?”
“Probably for the same reason you’re looking for it, I imagine. The deadline is tomorrow. I’ll get it for you shortly. Anyway, Max meet Hannah McLaughlin. It’s her first day today.”
He did a double-take, as though he’d only just noticed her standing there.
“Hannah. Welcome. I’m sorry I missed our meeting last week, but I was unavoidably detained, I’m afraid.”
Hannah cleared her throat—suddenly feeling self-conscious. “No problem, Mr Myers.” Her heart thundered in her chest.
She’d convinced herself he would be a flash and cocky bighead, not as charming and remarkably likeable as he appeared to be.
“I’ll get off, and leave you to it. Lovely to meet you, Hannah.” He took her hand, and held onto it a fraction longer than was necessary.
“And you, sir.”
*
Hannah needn’t have worried. She settled into her new role, no trouble. The initial feedback from her clients was she seemed professional, and was doing an excellent job.
On the home front, she’d seen more and more of Diane, often meeting in either of their flats for coffee as Hannah arrived home and before Diane left for work.
Simon had been working away since the first weekend they’d met, but he was due back that weekend. This coincided with Diane’s days off, so they planned a get-together, where they could all let their hair down.
She’d seen Max a couple of times in passing, and each time he asked how she was faring. She turned into a gormless mute when he spoke to her, smiling and nodding like a dimwit.
She still felt an all-encompassing attraction to him, but she knew, by the reaction of every other woman in her office, she wasn’t the only one. She needed to put him out of her mind.
Easier said than done. She’d never felt such a strong attraction to a man before. She’d had plenty of boyfriends, but never anyone who made her feel light-headed and breathless just by being in the same room. This was the type of thing she’d read about. However, she wasn’t gullible enough to think this situation could get any better for h
er. She was lucky in her career—she didn’t expect to be lucky in love as well.
*
On Saturday morning, Hannah and Diane got a train into Manchester city. After a leisurely breakfast in a café, they hit the shops.
While Diane had gone into the changing room of her favourite boutique with her arms laden, Hannah browsed the racks. She noticed a beautiful, close-fitting black dress, which would be impossible to wear any undies with. Hannah didn’t go for a lot of clothing—so long as she had the basics, she was fine. But, she loved that particular dress. She glanced at the price tag, and her hand shot away as though burned. £389—for a dress! And that was the sale price.
She spun away from the racks, and stood beside the counter, waiting for Diane to come out.
“Can I get you anything?” The salesperson smiled.
Hannah shook her head. “I couldn’t even afford a paper bag from here.”
“Me neither,” she whispered.
Just then, a toffee-nosed woman stormed in, and slammed a bag on the counter. “Excuse me,” she said to the salesperson. “I bought this yesterday, and I noticed the bone is missing from the bust area.” Out of the bag, she pulled the exact same dress Hannah had just been drooling over.
“Really? Let me see.” After fiddling with the corset part of the dress, the girl agreed. “I’m so sorry about that, madam. Let me replace it for you.”
Hannah watched as the girl found another dress, and handed it to the woman for inspection.
With a tight-lipped nod, the woman accepted the exchange, and flounced from the shop.
“What will you do with that now?” Hannah asked the girl, and nodded at the dress.
“I don’t know. Hang on.” She walked to a woman, who was standing on a stepladder fiddling with a display. “Francine. This dress has been returned, because it has a bone missing. What shall I do with it?”
Francine examined the dress. “So it does. Mark it down.”
The Watcher : A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller Page 3