For Your Own Protection(26)

And there, in the middle distance, was Catherine, walking away.

‘Are you okay?’ the woman said, interrupting Matt’s thoughts.

If he set off at a pace, he’d catch up with her in less than a minute.

But he wasn’t on his own – could he run while holding his son?

Maybe he could ask this woman to keep an eye on Charlie?

He quickly dismissed that idea – he couldn’t believe the thought had even crossed his mind after what had just happened.

He looked across at Charlie, then again at Catherine, who was getting further and further away.

‘Are you alright?’

There has to be a way.

‘I’m okay,’ he said finally. He went for his phone and stepped away from the woman. It was worth a shot.

He dialled Catherine, and watched her in the distance.

The call rang through. He saw her stop.

‘C’mon, pick up, pick up.’

He glanced at Charlie, to check he was still okay. Then back to Catherine, who was still stationary. Just as he thought the call would go unanswered, it connected.

‘Catherine?’

Silence.

‘Catherine. I know that’s not your real name. But it doesn’t matter. I just want to know what’s going on.’

More silence.

‘Why are you following me?’

No answer.

‘And why run away yesterday and ignore my calls?’

No reply. But at least she was listening. Matt checked on Charlie again. He was still engrossed in his play.

‘Please believe me,’ she said finally. ‘Everything I’ve done, it’s for your own protection.’

And then the line went dead.





PART TWO





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


Matt dropped Charlie back with Beth. He’d made the decision not to tell her about what had happened at the swimming pool. There was a risk that Charlie himself would let it slip, but he hadn’t mentioned it on the way home. He’d been too busy enthusing about the pirate ship.

Matt thought back to what Catherine had said.

Everything I’ve done, it’s for your own protection.

What was that supposed to mean?

By the time he reached his flat, he’d decided to confront her face to face. As he neared her apartment block, located on a busy junction on Seven Sisters Road, he rehearsed how the conversation might play out. It could go terribly wrong, but at least it was better than leaving things hanging.

Matt pressed the intercom buzzer for Flat 5. No answer. He pressed the button once more, but again there was no reply. He stepped back and looked up at the building, to the windows of Catherine’s flat. There were no signs of movement, but it was distinctly possible that she’d had the chance to peer out, see him, and decided to ignore his presence. He called her again on her mobile, but it rang through.

He was just about to leave when he saw a man at Catherine’s window. The guy’s face was only there for a second or two.

Several thoughts pinged around Matt’s head.

Is that her partner?

Or maybe another lover?

Or something more sinister?

Just a few weeks ago, Catherine had told him about a break-in in the block. The elderly lady in Flat 3 had returned home to find her place turned over. Somehow, someone had got into the block and then forced their way through the flimsy front door.

Matt didn’t stop to think too much. He punched in the entrance code Catherine had so trustingly provided him with and ran up the stairs.

He took a steadying breath and knocked on Catherine’s door.

He could hear movement. It sounded like sliding furniture.

‘Catherine, it’s Matt.’ He was surprised how nervy his voice sounded.

Still the sounds within the flat continued. He knocked again.

This time the door opened.

‘Hello. Can I help you?’ the man said, in accented English. He looked nervous, holding on to the door as if it were a shield.

‘I’m looking for Catherine Smith.’ Matt couldn’t resist the urge to peer around the man, in case he caught a glimpse of her.

‘Sorry. She’s gone,’ the man replied, in what Matt detected was an Eastern European accent. Possibly Polish or Romanian.

‘Gone?’

‘Yes. Gone. Today.’ He seemed to relax and released his grip on the door.

‘She’s moved out?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you know where she’s gone?’

He shrugged. ‘Sorry. I don’t know any more than this. I’m just here to clean.’

‘So you work for the owner?’ Maybe if he spoke to the owner, he could find out where Catherine had gone.

‘No. I work for agency. Agency calls and tells me where to go. I go.’ The man smiled sadly.

Matt nodded. ‘Thanks for your help. I’ll let you get on with your job.’



The woman called out just as Matt reached the top of the stairs.

‘Excuse me? It’s Matt, isn’t it?’

He turned to find Mariana, Catherine’s next-door neighbour, approaching. They’d passed each other in the corridor a number of times since he and Catherine had begun dating, and had been introduced just last week. She was a strikingly pretty Spanish doctor, studying infectious diseases at the London School of Hygiene & Tropical Medicine. She was holding a book.