Night Watcher

by Chris Longmuir

  He would just have to handle it. Ken shuddered. At all costs Claire must not know.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  After three cups of coffee Nicole’s nerve endings jangled and her body woke up. However, her foul temper remained, seething and boiling deep within. ‘Bloody Scott,’ she kept muttering over and over again, ‘who the hell does he think he is?’ She rammed the dirty cup into the sink and kicked the dishwasher. ‘Damned if I’m going to load that bugger,’ she said, watching the cup pirouette in the base of the sink before toppling over and parting company with its handle.

  Mounting rage forced Nicole’s heart to thump – the pulse beats, pushing and forcing their way up into her throat until they almost choked her with their intensity. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of the sink trying to tame her rising fury. Eventually she gave way to it and started to throw things. First she threw the dirty crockery Scott had left on the worktop. Once the crockery was exhausted she started on the wall units and threw everything she could touch. Eggs spattered on the wall; pickles and sauces joined them; flour; sugar; and jam helped create a colourful mural. Bread littered the floor; biscuits crunched beneath her feet while washing up liquid created a skating rink. But the thing that gave her most pleasure was spattering Scott’s favourite wine against the back door with a throw that could have launched a ship.

  At last she was spent and sank down into a sitting position among the mess covering the floor. That was when she began to laugh. It started with a giggle and gradually grew stronger until she had to wrap her arms round her body to contain herself.

  Eventually she wiped the laughter tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands, and holding her sides she hefted herself up to a standing position. She retrieved her briefcase, wiped it with the back of her hand, and then picked her way over the kitchen, slithering and slipping on the combination of flour, egg, washing up liquid and wine. She fought to keep her balance and when she came into reaching distance of the door she leaned over to grasp the handle, easing herself towards it. Sliding sideways she pulled the door open and stepped through to the safety of the corridor. Without a backward look she pulled it shut behind her and left everything.

  Stripping off her robe she let if fall on the carpet and headed for the shower. The spray needled her skin, hot and refreshing, and she turned this way and that to allow the water to penetrate every part of her body. Finally she tilted her head back and lifted her face into the spray, enjoying the feel of the water dribbling down her forehead and cheeks, through her hair and over her shoulders. The hot water washed away the tightness in her muscles as well as the goo that covered her.

  Feeling refreshed she wrapped herself in a towel and riffled through the clothes in her wardrobe. She selected a white blouse and a black jacket and skirt which was smart in its severity. Black tights and high-heeled shoes completed her ensemble. Today, she decided, she would be professional even though her nerves were on edge after everything that had happened: the dead animals, the sense of being watched, Scott’s scepticism and the disbelief of the police. Damn them all to hell. It was up to her to impress on whoever was doing these awful things to her, that it did not affect her one little bit.

  ***

  A myriad of small sounds: the patter of feet, the soft swing of a door, the hum of the lift, the rattle of the trolleys being stacked in readiness for customers, all of these sent messages to Julie that the store was coming to life.

  She eased her body out of the chair trying to ignore the sharp pangs piercing her head. A coffee would be nice and Betty would expect her to appear at the restaurant as usual. Better not disappoint her.

  The door creaked slightly when she pushed it open and the sound, which did not usually bother her, stabbed into her brain until she felt it would splinter into little pieces. She winced and crept out, into the food hall. Looking straight ahead she marched in the direction of the restaurant. Reaching it, she slumped onto one of the plastic chairs. Already she realized it had been a mistake to leave her office.

  ‘Godalmighty,’ Betty’s voice, sounding unnaturally loud, made Julie shrink into the seat.

  ‘Can you speak a little quieter,’ she muttered. It hurt when she looked up so she kept her gaze on the tabletop.

  ‘Must have been some night you had,’ Betty patted her shoulder.

  Julie winced as the blows vibrated up into her head.

  Betty sat down opposite her, ‘You look like death. Rough night, huh?’

  Julie nodded. Pain stabbed at her temples and her eyes filled with tears.

  Betty patted her hand, ‘Can’t let the staff see you like that so you pop back to your office and I’ll bring you the strongest coffee you’ve ever had. That’ll sort you out and in an hour or two the hangover will be a memory.’

  Julie shuffled back to her office. She needed to phone Adrian, tell him what she had decided, but she would do it later, after the coffee.

  It was two more paracetamol tablets, several coffees and another hour later before Julie felt able to face anyone. She still had not phoned Adrian. Later, she thought, maybe after I tell Nicole I’m leaving.

  Customers clustered in the aisles inspecting and commenting on what was on offer, but the noise no longer impacted on her as it had done earlier and she was able to smile at them without pain.

  Debbie, the assistant with the thick spectacles gave her a scared look as she passed, however, Julie smiled and said, ‘You’re doing well, Debbie.’ The girl beamed and scuttled off to find some more work to do, maybe she wasn’t too bright, Julie thought, but at least she was showing some keenness now.

  After Julie finished her inspection of the food hall she walked to the restaurant, it was time for another cup of coffee. Several of the tables were occupied, but Julie found a seat at the back. Over to her left an elderly lady with blue hair stared into her teacup to avoid looking at the man with the military moustache who was trying to chat her up.

  ‘D’you think we should interfere?’ Betty nodded in the direction of the couple as she placed two cups on the table and sat down.

  Julie shook her head. ‘Better to leave them. It’s not as if she’s a kid. I’m sure she’ll be able to sort him out.’

  ‘How you feeling now?’ Betty stopped looking at the couple.

  ‘Better,’ Julie smiled. ‘The headache has stopped thumping and I’m more like myself.’ She took a sip of the coffee. ‘Ah, this is good. By the way you weren’t kidding when you said the coffee you’d bring me this morning was strong. It nearly took the top off my mouth.’

  Betty grinned. ‘I haven’t looked after an alcoholic husband for years without knowing what to do.’

  Julie looked over the rim of her cup. ‘You never told me that before.’

  ‘Wasn’t any need before, was there. It’s no business of the buggers who work in here and the less folks know about my private life the better pleased I am.’

  ‘You don’t mind me knowing then?’

  ‘Naw, you’re different Julie. I know you won’t spread it around.’

  Julie sipped some more of her coffee. ‘Nicole hasn’t been looking for me, has she?’

  ‘Haven’t seen her come in yet.’ Betty frowned. ‘It’s not like her though, she’s usually always here trying to catch folks out.’

  ***

  Fingers of wind combed through Nicole’s hair as her sports car zoomed along the country road. Most days she tied her hair back with a scarf, but today she felt reckless and did not care, enjoying the feeling of abandonment it gave her. The laugh bubbled up into her throat and she threw her head back to shriek into the wind. There was no one to hear her and even if there had been she would not have cared.

  Today would be the beginning of a new life, she told herself. Scott could go fuck himself. She would see her solicitor, change the locks on the doors and that would be that. She should have made the decision long ago.

  When she reached the store she parked in front of the entrance even though it was a no parking
zone. She slid out of the car and marched into the store, throwing her car keys at the assistant on the perfume counter. ‘Find that lazy sod of a security man,’ she demanded, ‘and tell him to park my car.’ Without a backward glance she strode to the lift and pressed the button, tapping her fingers on the doors until they opened.

  The executive corridor was empty when she left the lift, although she could hear the muted voices of the office girls and the churning sound of the photocopier. Turning away from the noises she walked along the corridor, stopping for a moment outside Ken’s office, but there was no response to her tap. Strange, she thought, when she found his door was locked, maybe he’s having a day off. A smile crossed her face as she continued on to her own office. Ken knew she was ditching Scott for him so he would probably be consoling Claire who would be distraught at the thought of Ken leaving her. She shrugged her shoulders everything was working out perfectly.

  Her hand turned the doorknob and she entered the room. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, she screamed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Ken jabbed his finger onto the on switch and listened as his computer hummed into life. It immediately went into a virus check and while he waited he leaned his elbows on the desk and let his mind drift.

  He was happier now he had made his decision. His problems were over and Nicole was history. Once rid of her, Claire would come round, she always did. And Nicole would be gone, from his life and from the store.

  Ken was sure Patrick would agree with him when he suggested that Nicole was past it, and that he was the best person to take the firm forward. After all, Patrick had returned to Dundee last night specifically to meet him, and Nicole had not been invited. He had never been more certain, Nicole’s days were numbered. And with her departure his problems would be over.

  He leaned back in his executive chair, savouring the smell of the leather. Last night Patrick had been so positive. ‘You have a great future with Drake’s,’ he had said, patting Ken on the shoulder. ‘I like the way you think. New ideas are the lifeblood of business.’ He had smiled as he said it, that little tight-lipped smile that always reminded Ken to be careful because Patrick was a man with no scruples.

  ‘What about Nicole?’ Ken asked him, not really caring about her, but checking out where she stood with Patrick.

  ‘What about her?’ he had replied in an inscrutable tone that Ken interpreted as a signal of Nicole’s demise in the company. ‘You are the man I want in the driving seat,’ Patrick paused, ‘but no need to tell Nicole yet.’ There was a cruel tinge to his smile this time.

  ‘She won’t be pleased. I expect she’ll fight it.’ Ken looked at Patrick, wondering if he would have second thoughts.

  Patrick just shrugged. ‘Another drink, Ken?’

  The two men smiled at each other. Conspirators working for the good of the store and, of course, for themselves.

  Ken liked his office on the executive floor, which was just as well, because even though he moved to a more elevated position in the company, which he expected to do very soon, it was doubtful if his accommodation would change. Still, he thought, looking around him, maybe Patrick would agree to a makeover. He swivelled his chair round and sat for a moment in front of the computer, watching the cannibal fish on his screen saver gobbling anything that came near them. This suited his mood perfectly. It was what business was all about. His hand rested on the mouse, reluctant to move it and send the fish into monitor oblivion, but eventually he gave it the slightest nudge and brought his project back onto the screen. His concentration intensified and he became immersed in the fine detail of his plan. Already he had forgotten it was Nicole’s ideas that initiated the plan. If he thought of her at all it was only to consider how he would handle her.

  He did not worry about Nicole. They’d had fun together, but now it had to end and he did not see any problem with that. There would be no difficulties for him finishing the affair, knowing what he now knew. But for a brief moment Ken felt pity for her because her fate was predetermined. However, he knew that given the opportunity Nicole would double-cross him without a second thought.

  Ken worked for quite a long time before he heard the lift stop and the doors open with a noise that grated his nerves. ‘Damned maintenance man, I reported that yesterday,’ he muttered to himself as he closed the lid of his laptop, kicked his shoes off and rose from his chair. However, he was glad of the noise because it signalled Nicole’s arrival. He moved silently to the door and turned the key. He did not have time to return to his desk before he heard Nicole stop outside so he stood still, afraid to move in case she detected a sound, although that was doubtful given the solidity of the oak-panelled door.

  The handle turned and he held his breath. After a moment he heard her walk along the corridor to her own office. Ken breathed out, unlocked his door and returned to his desk where he was soon immersed in his work.

  ***

  Nicole froze. Another scream bubbled up in her throat, but it stuck there in a painful lump unable to escape. She forced herself to approach her desk, not believing what she was looking at. But there was no mistake.

  ‘Oh, Freddie,’ she moaned, biting her lip to prevent the tears gathering. She could not cry over a pigeon. Not her, not Nicole, who never let anything faze her because she had her reputation for toughness to maintain. But she loved animals and birds they were so defenceless and innocent, and there had been too many deaths already. Besides, Freddie had been special to her, maybe because he was so tame and she was always the one he came to. He had been there every morning, tapping on the window to attract her attention, and looking at her with those large sad eyes.

  One tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. Had it been only yesterday that she had crumbled one of her biscuits and scattered it on the windowsill for the bird? And now here he was crucified, his wings spread and secured to the desk by the brass tin-tacks skewering the tips of his feathers to the wooden surface.

  Nicole reached out a finger to stroke him, hoping to feel a heartbeat or some kind of life-flicker, but he was cold and rigid. She had not really expected anything else, and yet, the shock vibrated through her, up into her throat where it stuck and throbbed until a keening moan escaped her lips. The sight of Freddie brought back other memories, hateful memories. The blackbird she had found on the seat of her car. The arrangement of small bodies lined up on her kitchen floor in some strange ritualistic sacrifice. Who was doing this to her?

  The room shifted out of focus and her earlier nausea returned as she backed away from the desk. The sound of faraway voices and running feet in the corridor trickled over her, but nothing made any sense. She had the strangest sensation that she was encased in cotton wool. She continued to back away from the desk, but her movements were disjointed, her feet and body did not seem to be connected and she was floating. The world dimmed and faded away as she fell.

  ***

  ‘Yes, Evelyn?’ Ken had become so engrossed in improving his business plan for the store he had been oblivious to the rumpus in the corridor until the senior administrative assistant burst in allowing the noise to soar to a level that was impossible to ignore. He turned to stare at her; he had never seen her in this condition before. Usually she was so calm and self controlled.

  ‘What on earth’s going on?’ He closed the file he had been working on, slipped his feet into his shoes, and rose from the chair.

  Evelyn’s breath was coming in short gasps and she held her throat with one hand when she spoke. ‘It’s Mrs Ralston,’ she panted. ‘We can’t calm her down. I think you should come.’

  Ken heard screams resounding along the corridor. ‘Is that Mrs Ralston screaming?’ He strode to the door.

  Evelyn nodded. ‘She’s in hysterics and won’t stop.’ She backed out of the door. ‘I’ve phoned the police, but I think someone should be with her.’

  Ken halted. ‘The police?’

  ‘Yes. There’s something in her room.’ Evelyn shuddered. ‘I can’
t describe it. You’ll see when you get there.’

  Ken started to walk in the direction of the screams, but then stopped as a vision of Nicole clutching him and sobbing on his shoulder hit him like a blow. He remembered Patrick’s offer, Claire’s ultimatum, and his resolve to end it with Nicole. How could he end it if he went to her now? Nicole would never let him go. He would mess up with Patrick, and Claire was bound to find out. He took another two steps then turned round as the urge to run and stay as far away from Nicole as possible overtook him. Whatever it was that had given her the screaming heebie-jeebies, he did not want to know.

  ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come,’ Ken said. He could almost feel Evelyn’s eyes boring into him and was not sure what she knew, or guessed about him and Nicole. ‘I’m not very good at calming screaming women,’ he added. ‘Besides she’d be better with a woman. I’ll go get her friend, Julie.’

  He hurried to the lift muttering a little prayer of thanks that he had been listening when Nicole talked about Julie. The knowledge had saved him from an embarrassing scene.

  Ken rarely visited the food hall and was not sure where he would find Julie at this time of the morning. He wandered up and down various aisles, smiling at customers, while his eyes searched for a member of staff.

  ‘Miss Forbes, where can I find her?’ He smiled at the young girl to whom he had addressed his question. Poor thing she didn’t have a lot going for her, however, it was second nature for him to try to charm women.

  The girl adjusted her spectacles and blushed. ‘Try the office,’ she stammered.

  ‘And where would I find the office?’ Ken raised one of his eyebrows. It was a trick he practised regularly because it seemed to have an effect on women.

  She giggled and pointed to the rear of the food hall.

  ‘Thank you,’ he peered at her name badge, ‘Debbie. You’ve been very helpful.’ Ken sauntered down the aisle, aware that Debbie was watching.