You're All Mine

by Ruth Harrow

'I-I just don't know how someone posted that on my blog. John, you have to believe that I didn't write that.'

  Ian takes the tablet away hastily and slides it neatly into his leather carry case on top of some documents. 'How did it end up on your website then? Can anyone post something?'

  'No... It's password protected.'

  'And how many people have the password?'

  'No one else has it. It's just me.'

  'I see.'

  'But someone must have hacked into it, or something like that.' My voice sounds again small and unrecognisable. I wish Nicole was here and not over a hundred miles away. As well as fighting my corner, she would be able to provide a stronger explanation of how someone hacked into my blog. She knows this stuff better than I do.

  'Yes, all right. Whatever you say,' Ian says dismissively, looking to his father. 'Shall we move on, then, Dad?'

  We continue the tour of the building. Lisa talks enthusiastically about her part in the project and her audience is receptive, drinking in her words and complying every time she fishes for compliments.

  Part of me thinks I could still rescue the situation if I put some real effort in, but honestly, I know that it is over.

  Lisa has won. She knows it too. When she isn't ignoring me, she throws me the odd sly glance. Delight is stretched across her broad face.

  Two years ago, I would have jumped at an opportunity like this one, but I haven't exactly put my all into this project at all. Now... I would rather have a happy home life to go back to.

  If only I had one.

  Finally, we arrive in the penthouse apartment. The view from here is exceptional. It is another cloudy day, but here and there patches of blue sky push through the clouds and paint highlights of azure on the sea below.

  If the situation was any different, I would think it beautiful. Now, however, I just want to slink into a dark room and forget everything that's happened.

  Forget myself.

  John claps his hands together. 'Well, I have to say I'm really pleased with the work you two have done on the property. This is exactly the vision I had for this place, so a big thank you to both of you.'

  He pauses and glances at Ian who gives the slightest of nods and opens his mouth to start speaking.

  'There is just the question now of the next venture we would like to embark on. Lisa, I hinted to you a little while ago that Jones and Stanton are going to be branching out into other markets, didn't I?'

  Lisa gives a simpering nod.

  'Well, we are going to be releasing a new range of homeware and decorating products and we would like an interior designer to be the face of it. How would you like to be our new brand ambassador, Lisa?'

  Lisa gasps in a sickening display of surprise. I get the feeling Ian has already disclosed details of this deal with her before today. But she does a good job of pretending this is a delightful shock. 'Oh, that would be wonderful. I'd love to, thank you so much!' She glances at me and widens her grin, flashing her short teeth. 'What a wonderful opportunity!'

  She and Ian descend quickly into discussing the details of the venture and I try not to listen.

  John moves over to the dining room table and starts unpacking a camera from his case.

  He glances over his shoulder at me. 'Do you want to take this opportunity to take photos for your portfolio?'

  'I already took them,' I lie.

  He shrugs and continues getting his own camera ready.

  'Listen, John,' I say. 'I just want you to know that I didn't make that post on my blog – I mean, of course I didn't – it makes no sense. I would never say anything like that, let alone write it down and publish it. This is someone playing a horrible joke on me – as they did with the carpet order. Other things have happened too–'

  He holds his free hand up. 'Well, it looks like you've got some business that needs sorting out with someone else, then–'

  I open my mouth to speak.

  '–I don't need to hear the whole story, Heather. But I can't have you bringing that to work with you.'

  He attaches the lens onto his camera and sets it down before turning to face me. 'Another thing I pride in the people I work with is honesty. I'm sorry things couldn't have worked out better.'

  He gestures around us. 'I really do appreciate the job you have done here. I wish you all the best for the future.'

  67

  With the final documents for the project signed I trail back in a daze to my car, settle into the driver's seat and put my face in my hands.

  I can't believe how wrong everything has gone. Nothing has worked out the way I planned at all. I've had someone else's hand pulling strings behind my back; always in the corner of my vision, lurking and meddling.

  My mouth is dry. The glove box is empty now apart from an old packet of chewing gum and some tissues. I wish now I hadn't used all the bottle of water washing my face.

  I sit in the car park for ten minutes or so. I'm so exhausted that I might as well have run a physical race. It doesn't matter anyway – I've lost to the bully I thought I had left behind years ago.

  Right on cue, the front door to the building opens and Lisa emerges.

  She walks awkwardly across the car park, clearly in a daze too – except hers is a blissful one.

  I bet I had looked like that when I was told I'd won the Milan job.

  Lisa walks in front of my car, her mind clearly racing. She glances up and sees me watching her through my windscreen and changes direction. Walking back over my way instead.

  She reaches my driver-side window and I have the wild urge just to start the engine and drive away.

  Instead, I roll down my window and plant a fake smile on my face. 'Congratulations, you got the new venture. I bet you're feeling really pleased with yourself.'

  She looks slightly taken aback, but smiles. 'Look, Heather. I hope there isn't any bad feeling between us. I mean, I know we didn't quite get along in secondary school... but I'd like to leave that in the past, if you'll allow it.'

  I snort angrily. 'That's a bit much coming from you, isn't it? Especially now it's all over! You've won. You got what you wanted! It's just a shame you had to resort to sabotage and intimidation. But once a bully, always a bully, right Lisa?'

  Her mouth drops open and all traces of a smile, fake or otherwise, disappears. 'What the bloody hell are you talking about?'

  'You can stop pretending now, Lisa, it's over – I've had enough! I get that you're angry with me about your accident, but you've taken it too far – sabotaging my work – sending an email to mess up the carpet order. Posting that article on my blog. And visiting my parents–'

  'Whoa – wait a second – are you blaming me for that order issue? It had your name on the email address–'

  'I've already explained to everyone that wasn't my email address! Someone set it up to look like me.'

  'Someone? Do you mean me? You're dreaming, Heather. That wasn't me.'

  I stare at Lisa for a few moments. Her usual smug smile is gone and she looks deadly serious. Of course, she could be acting, but something tells me she is telling the truth.

  'But it had to be you. Who else would have known about the order, and where I placed it? And my middle name too – you must remember it from school – how could you forget it? And you broke into my house – I know it was all you!'

  Lisa holds up her hands just as John had done and actually takes a step backwards, her heel crunching on the gravelled car park. 'Whoa! Just calm down a second, will you? You're accusing me of all sorts now. I swear I haven't done any of those things.'

  'Sure... but if it wasn't you, then who was it?'

  She makes a dismissive face and shakes her head. 'I have no idea. Looks like you've got an enemy out there somewhere, Heather. Done something horrible to someone else have you?'

  'No. No, of course not!'

  'Well, someone seems to think you have.'

  I go quiet for a second, thinking. Maybe everything was the work of a random internet troll afte
r all. I've published all sorts of details online over the years. Someone could have built up quite a profile on me. But in what context would I ever have shared my middle name? And how did someone guess the password for my blog?

  I look up and see Lisa still staring at me.

  She isn't smiling now but looks genuinely concerned for my well-being. 'So... you really didn't make that post then? I thought it didn't seem like you would do it yourself – why would you have done such a thing? And the look on your face when you saw it... I think John was a little harsh on you, personally. I can't really say I'm all too sorry, though. I mean, it's worked out all right for me, hasn't it?'

  'Yes, it certainly has...'

  'You still don't believe me, do you?' She shakes her head, looking out across the sea where the clouds have parted further and bright sunshine now sparkles on select patches of water.

  I look out in that direction too, although I barely take it in. If Lisa isn't the culprit as she swears, then who or what am I dealing with?

  In a way, it would be better if she was the one responsible – it would surely mean an end to all the strange happenings once I drive away from this place today.

  Lisa's quiet tone brings me back to the here and now. 'Look, Heather, you said someone broke into your house? I really have no idea where you live – honestly – so you can't accuse me of that. Obviously, I've seen pictures of inside your home, but that could be anywhere. I had nothing to do with the flooring fiasco, either. Also, I don't have your login details for your blog. Not that I would do anything like that, anyway.' She pauses. 'You're the vindictive one. Remember?'

  She stares me straight in the eye. I know she is talking now about the revenge trick I played on her when we were in school.

  I shake my head and grip the steering wheel in my stationary vehicle for something to hold. Heat rises in my neck.

  A deep sigh rushes out of me. 'I'm so sorry, Lisa. I had no idea you would react as you did. I just wanted you to stop – the exam pressure was getting to me so much – it felt like my whole life was coming to a head. I half-expected you to take a swing at me that day – or just laugh it off and carry on, maybe. You were so brash – I had no idea you would run straight into the road without looking.'

  She looks at me thoughtfully for a few seconds. 'I'm sorry too, Heather. I was a real bitch to you back then. You know, I went through a lot of physical therapy after... after it happened. And it gave me a lot of time to think. It changed my life. For a long time, I felt like I deserved it, you know, the accident. I hadn't realised until that day how much I had been getting to you.'

  I shrug. 'Everything seems like a big deal when you're a teenager, doesn't it? School just seems like such a big part of your world, you can't see past it.'

  She smiles. 'Yeah.'

  Lisa is quiet for a moment, lost in thought, as though watching her younger self on a screen between us that I can't see.

  'Well, I'd better get going,' I say, snapping her back to the present. 'I have a long drive and lots to do when I get back. Take care.'

  I start the engine.

  'Yes, you too, Heather – you have an enemy out there, so watch yourself!' She laughs and must think it too harsh, or maybe it is the look on my face because she stops abruptly.

  'I was only joking,' she says.

  I force a smile too as I bid her farewell.

  68

  Disregarding my insomnia, I order a large cappuccino to accompany my bean wrap. I probably won't sleep tonight, but I don't care. It's not like I have to get up early for work tomorrow. Neither do I have anywhere else to be, or anyone to rush home to.

  I grab a handful of sugar sachets on the way and drop into a seat at a table near the window overlooking the service station car park.

  The hot, sweet liquid feels wonderful and suddenly I'm starving. It doesn't take long to devour my sandwich. One it is gone, I feel infinitely better. Warmth spreads to my fingers – like life is being steadily pumped into my veins and I can think clearly for the first time all day.

  Before I can come to any conclusion, however, my phone buzzes with a new text. I don't feel prepared to deal with it, but I pick up my phone and read the message anyway.

  It's a text from Nicole.

  How's it going, Bestie?! I'm dying to know what's happening. You must be out of the meeting by now? Let me know what's going on. It's not fair to keep an idiot in suspense like this – even though you've had plenty of practice! Nicole xx

  I again feel a rush of relief that my best friend talks to me so soon after having a falling out. I'm not sure I would so easily forgive my equivalent if she had forgotten to pick up my niece or nephew from school.

  It's very easy just to slip my phone back into my bag. Maybe I'll deal with it later... Perhaps the situation wouldn't sound as bad when I talk about it in person. Perhaps I could even sound casual about it.

  Outside, a pair of magpies are pecking away at a paper bag, trailing crumbs all over the asphalt.

  The guilty twinge in my stomach gets the better of me and I feel compelled to send something back to Nicole; just to let her know I'm not ignoring her.

  My fingers hesitate a lot as I type. I delete and rewrite the words and I feel further squirms of guilt, but I can't admit what really happened back in Aberystwyth. I just can't seem to bring myself to tap out the truth.

  Hey, Nic. They loved my work and seem very keen to sign me up for that new project I told you about. It's super exciting! They are going to discuss it further and let me know in a few days xx

  That will make it easier, I think. I'll just say they had a change of heart, or maybe I could tell Nicole I changed my mind.

  By the time I'm at the end of my coffee, energy has returned to my system and everything seems much clearer. Perhaps it's the distance I've put between my home and my place of work, but by sitting in this service station between the two locations, I'm seeing things with a fresh perspective.

  I hadn't realised what a dark cloud the Jones and Stanton project was over me.

  Nicole sends a message back after ten minutes or so.

  Wow. There is no stopping you, is there, Heather?! I'm surprised you haven't posted on social media yet... Can't wait to hear all the details xx

  I start typing back a reply, but then I stop. I scroll up and reread Nicole's message again and I feel a frown line creasing my forehead. A thought occurs to me and I delete what I have written. Instead, I take a different approach.

  Will be staying just outside Oswestry tonight. Too exhausted to drive back now. I might even extend my trip so I spend the weekend too. Jones and Stanton really took it out of me more than I realised! Thanks so much for your support, Nicole. I really appreciate it xx

  Taking on board Nicole's suggestion, I load up my Instagram account and draft a post.

  Had such a busy day I will be staying near the charming town of Oswestry tonight. Will miss going home this evening, but it's worth it – I have the best job in the world! For once, I'm glad Travelodge exists! Stay tuned, I will be posting some exciting news soon... xx

  I move over to a window in a quiet area of the Starbucks I am in and carefully take a shot of the grassy area surrounded by trees outside. I triple-check that any unwanted glimpses of the shop floor, or myself, are not visible reflected in the glass.

  When I'm happy with the message, I post it to my account along with the photo. The image looks perfectly plausible – as though it could easily have been taken from a hotel room. Within five minutes, I even have a handful of likes.

  Perfect.

  Whoever has been behind every little happening seems to like staying in the shadows, always striking when I am out of the house, but never really confronting me.

  Let's see how they like it when it is they who are given a nasty shock instead.

  69

  Refuelled, I cross the car park and get into my vehicle. I settle into the driver's seat and take a deep breath.

  The journey back seems to pass by as though I'm
in a dream. This route is so familiar that it isn't a conscious decision to take a turn here or there or to leave the motorway at a specific junction.

  Darkness falls around me, but I hardly notice. All around me, I am surrounded by many sets of headlights that thin out as my journey progresses.

  Before I even feel ready, I'm approaching the entrance to the country lane leading to my home.

  I don't have a plan. The first tingle of apprehension moves across my shoulders.

  Everything could be fine. They might have given up, or chosen not to act today. A feeling in my gut, however, tells me otherwise.

  If this person shows up virtually every time I leave the house just to go to the shops or a meeting, they surely wouldn't give up this opportunity to break into my house when they think I'm in a hotel miles away.

  It occurs to me, as I am maybe two-hundred yards away from the entrance to my property, that I should approach more stealthily. I flip off the headlights as I round the corner into my driveway.

  There is only the light from my cool solar lamps set into the sleek stone, but it is enough – it is impossible to miss what I see through my windscreen.

  Much to my sudden trepidation, I find my instinct is right. There is a car in the driveway.

  It is James's Mercedes.

  70

  I let my car roll to a stop next to his and switch my engine off. I stare at the shiny dark grey paintwork in the darkness. Little highlights caused by the solar lamps glitter in the darkness. I look up at the house and realise that all the windows are dark too.

  There is no sign of life.

  Could James really have been the one doing this to me the whole time?

  He himself had admitted he had been spiteful with the gifts he had left for me before I left for Milan...

  He was the only person around when my parcel and driveway were sabotaged. He had full access to the house before I changed the locks. And even when I did get them changed, he still managed to get inside the building. James claimed the door was already open... but that was obviously just a lie.