I Am Watching You(40)

The text she has been afraid to tell anyone about.





WATCHING . . .





8pm


I pick those I watch very carefully.

They need to be special. Sometimes I pick them because I love them and I know how much they need me, and sometimes I pick them because I hate them. I never pick anyone in-between. Why bother if you don’t feel strongly?

Right now it is difficult because I have had to stop watching for a little while. It is frustrating. Churns me up – like needing a cigarette.

But somehow you have to stay calm. You have to be much cleverer than the people you watch. You have to keep your face looking just right. Speak in the right tone.

This is also the bit I am very good at.

The right face.

The right tone.

So that you don’t know who I’m watching. Or why.





CHAPTER 25


THE WITNESS

Luke got the text late last night. Emily has lost the baby. We were up most of the night talking, going around and around in circles.

Luke is so shaken – sadness and relief and terrible guilt all mixed up together. She won’t speak to him on the phone. He got through once but she just cried, and texted him asking to leave her alone. She doesn’t know how to feel. No one does.

I have never seen Luke this low. This sad. I am still keeping him off school. He is getting worried about how much he has missed, but I take the view he can either catch up or sit the year again if necessary. I very much want to stay around to support him today, but I have a dilemma again. I have wedding flowers to finish for a delivery van arriving at 8 a.m. The bouquets need to be at the bride’s house by 10.30 a.m. latest, and the rest of the flowers at the reception venue soon after. I have tried phoning a couple of friends in the trade to see if they can take over the order as an emergency favour, but no one is free.

So what can I do? Let a bride down?

Tony is away for two nights meeting other area managers – one of those team-building specials. He couldn’t get out of it, as the MD might be there. So I have to make the call. Is it wise to leave Luke, and is it safe to be in the shop early on my own now that the new security is in place?

We’ve had new locks and an alarm installed, but the blessed system has been malfunctioning and the families that live over the row of shops have been complaining. Something is accidentally tripping it. I’ve had three false call-outs so far, and quite frankly, I’m sick of it. The system cost us a lot of money and it isn’t good enough. The installer keeps making excuses on the phone, implying it is something to do with the way I set it. But I am not stupid, and I have followed the instructions absolutely to the letter.

The last email blabbered on about the system needing time to settle down, as if it was a perm that needs a few days to drop. We’re talking electronics. Science. I gave it to him with both barrels, threatened to call Trading Standards. The return email said that mice can set off the alarms. Mice? Can you believe it?

I had to go out to the shop at two o’ clock this morning, leaving poor Luke for a bit. So here’s the confession. Instead of resetting it, I switched the stupid thing off. I know. But it’s making things worse, not better. Waste of space.

It is 5 a.m. now, and I need to leave immediately if I am to get these flowers done in time for the delivery van. I make two cups of tea and take one up to Luke’s room.

He is sitting up in bed, still dressed in yesterday’s tracksuit.

‘I made tea.’

He looks at me as if I am speaking another language. As if he doesn’t recognise me.

‘Do you think everyone in school will find out?’

‘I don’t know, love. I hope not.’

‘Me too. I couldn’t bear that. For Emily, I mean.’ He puts his head in his hands.

‘Look, love. I don’t expect you to come to the shop with me. But your dad – he’s going to be cross if he finds out I’ve gone in on my own again, so best we not tell him.’

Luke turns towards me with a strange blank look in his eyes.

‘Is it safe for you to go in alone?’

‘Yeah. Of course. Don’t worry about it, love. We’ve got the alarm. It’s perfectly OK. The police are sure the postcards were just from some attention-seeker. Nasty but harmless.’

‘You sure? You want me to come?’

‘No, love. You look terrible. I want you to rest and promise me you’ll stay safe and, well, to remember that this is all going to be OK in the end. We are here for you. And I know it feels really sad and confusing right now, but it will get better.’

‘Are you still worried . . . about that girl? About Anna?’

‘No, love. I’ve tried to stop thinking about it. I’m worried about you now.’

I tell him then that I will be on my mobile and he is to ring or text immediately if there is any kind of worry. I won’t open the shop today. Once the wedding flowers are in the van, I’ll put the closed sign on the door and come straight home.

‘Is that OK, Luke? Will you be OK for a few hours?’

He nods.

‘Keep your phone on, love.’

Another nod.



There is never any traffic this time of the morning, and very soon I am sitting in the car outside the shop. Ridiculous, but I have started travelling with the door locks on. I haven’t told Tony this, and I don’t know what I am expecting to happen.