The Stalker

by Sarah Alderson

  He shakes his head. ‘No. My father disappeared when I was young,’ he says. ‘And my mother died eight years ago.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him.

  He shrugs. ‘It’s OK. We weren’t very close. She was a difficult woman.’

  I cock my head. It’s an unusual way to describe a parent. He gives a tight smile.

  ‘She must have been proud of you for being a detective.’

  He shakes his head. ‘Not really, no. Nothing would have made her proud. She was very religious. I could never do anything right. Black sheep and all that.’

  ‘I’m sorry again,’ I say, moved by his honesty.

  He smiles at me, and it’s such a lovely open smile that the butterflies in my stomach multiply. I feel almost giddy with excitement.

  ‘What about you?’ he asks. ‘Any family? Ex-boyfriends I should know about?’

  I pause, thinking about Paul, who I haven’t heard from since Christmas Day. I’ve sent him several texts, but I think he’s ghosting me. I shake my head. ‘No,’ I say. ‘No boyfriend. Just my mum.’

  ‘Good,’ he answers with the smile that I’m growing to love.

  *

  ‘Oh, he’s ever so lovely,’ my mum giggles as we watch Liam mending the fence in the back yard. ‘It’s nice to have a man around here who’s good with his hands.’

  I bite my lip to suppress a smile.

  ‘I’m amazed he’s not married already,’ my mum says.

  ‘He was,’ I tell her.

  My mum looks at me, her expression eager. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I don’t know much, only that she cheated on him. He won’t even tell me her name. He says she broke his heart. He’s still not quite over it, I don’t think.’ I bite my lip. The truth is, I sometimes catch Liam scowling and when I ask him what the matter is, he puts on a smile and tells me nothing is the matter. But one time he did admit that he sometimes thinks about his ex and that the pain of her betrayal still wounds him.

  My mum must see the expression of doubt on my face as she pats my hand. ‘Don’t you worry. He loves you; I can tell.’

  ‘Do you think?’ I ask her. ‘He hasn’t said it.’ But we’ve only been dating six weeks so it’s not surprising. It’s a bit early for declarations of love.

  ‘The way he looks at you,’ my mum says, sighing once more. ‘It’s so romantic. And look at those roses he bought you. It’ll be a ring next, just you watch.’

  I slap her hand away, laughing. ‘Mum!’ I giggle. ‘We’ve only been going a few months. It’s a bit soon for wedding bells.’ But I can’t stop grinning, touching the necklace and thinking of the dozen red roses back home in my kitchen that he bought me for Valentine’s Day. He even bought my mum a single red rose too, much to her delight.

  ‘Where are you going tonight?’ my mum asks.

  ‘We’re staying in,’ I tell her. ‘I’m cooking.’

  My mum’s eyebrows raise. ‘You’re cooking?’ she asks. ‘Is that a good idea?’

  ‘Don’t be mean,’ I laugh. ‘Liam wanted a home-cooked meal. I’ve planned it all out.’

  My mum still looks doubtful; she knows my cooking skills are sub-par.

  Just then Liam walks in the back door. ‘All done,’ he says, setting the hammer down. ‘Nice and secure now.’

  ‘You are a love,’ my mum tells him. ‘Let me make you a cup of tea.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he answers. ‘That’d be great.’ He looks at me. ‘Then we should get back.’

  I nod, even though we only just got here twenty minutes ago, and I know my mum was looking forward to spending time with us.

  ‘It’s fine, pet,’ she measures me, understandingly. ‘Liam’s a busy man.’

  ‘What about that bit of carpet at the top of the stairs that you needed fixing?’ I say.

  ‘That can wait,’ my mum says. ‘Not to worry.’

  I look at Liam with a pleading expression.

  ‘I’ve got to install those security cameras,’ he replies with an apologetic shrug.

  ‘What cameras?’ my mum asks.

  ‘Oh,’ says Liam, washing his hands at the sink. ‘I’m putting up some cameras at Laura’s place. You can never be too safe.’

  I hand him a towel to dry his hands. He takes it, smiling at me. ‘Got to take care of my girl,’ he adds, putting his arm around me and kissing my cheek.

  Later, when we’re home, Liam gets to work on installing the cameras and then connecting them up to an app on his phone. ‘This way,’ he tells me. ‘I’ll be the first to know if anyone tries to break in.’

  I lean on his arm. ‘Thanks so much.’

  He kisses my temple. ‘You’re welcome. What time’s dinner?’

  ‘Eight?’ I say.

  He frowns. ‘Can we have it earlier?’

  ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘um, sure. I’ll just have to figure out the timings again but that’s fine.’ I hurry off to get started. The chicken needs time to marinade.

  When I finally put the dinner in the oven, praying it turns out OK, Liam walks in, freshly showered. ‘Here,’ he says. ‘I got you something else.’

  I turn around and find him holding a gift-wrapped box. I take it, feeling overwhelmed. ‘What is it?’ I say. No one has ever given me so many gifts before. I feel bad as I only bought him a book of poetry by Robert Burns, which I’m worried he didn’t really like.

  ‘Open it,’ he says.

  I do and I find a beautiful black silk dress. ‘It’s gorgeous,’ I exclaim.

  ‘Try it on,’ he tells me.

  I nod and hurry towards the stairs, only to find him following me up them and into the bedroom. He obviously wants to watch.

  My mouth opens and my throat goes dry. Little palpitations shake my heart. I’m very self-conscious about my body and, so far, Liam and I haven’t been intimate, besides kissing. I’d been wondering if tonight was the night that we might go further, but I’m nervous. What if he doesn’t like what he sees?

  ‘Go on,’ he encourages.

  Anxious, I take a deep breath and pull off my jumper and then my T-shirt. Standing in my bra and jeans I glance at him. He’s staring at me with naked desire and I feel the heat rise up my chest.

  ‘Beautiful,’ he says. ‘Now the jeans.’

  I undo them and step out of them, feeling awkward and on display. No one has ever asked me to take off my clothes in front of them.

  ‘Now put the dress on,’ he says.

  I do as he asks. It clings to my hips and boobs. ‘Will you do me up?’ I ask, turning my back to him so he can pull up the zip.

  He does, kissing my shoulder blade. I inhale sharply.

  ‘It’s a little tight,’ he tells me, forcing the zip.

  My cheeks flame.

  ‘If you lose a few pounds, it will fit like a dream,’ he tells me.

  I nod, feeling ashamed. Does he find me unattractive? Am I overweight? I thought I was fairly normal. My chin wobbles and I tell myself not to cry.

  He turns me around to face him and lifts my chin. ‘I love you,’ he says, kissing me.

  My heart stills. My chin stops wobbling. Love? He’s said the L word.

  ‘I love you too,’ I breathe.

  He pulls back, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. ‘My angel,’ he says.

  I laugh. I like being called that. ‘Oh god!’ I exclaim. ‘The dinner!’ I race for the door. I’ve forgotten all about the chicken.

  By the time I pull it from the oven I can see it’s overcooked. The sauce has all dried up and the skin is scorched. Damn. Liam comes to stand by my shoulder. ‘That looks like a dog’s dinner,’ he says glumly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, almost bursting into tears.

  He doesn’t speak for a while and I can tell I’ve disappointed him. I turn to face him. ‘I really am sorry. I wanted it to be perfect.’

  He finally smiles, though it looks forced, and strokes my cheek. ‘It doesn’t matter. We can get takeaway.’

  ‘Really?’ I ask, still downhearted.r />
  He nods. We order an Indian takeaway and eat it by candlelight. Liam’s phone dings as I serve up. I glance at him, wondering if it’s work, as he’s often on call. ‘It’s the app,’ he says. ‘It lets me know if there’s motion at the back door.’

  I frown. ‘What’s at the back door?’

  ‘The cat,’ he answers.

  ‘Tiger?’ I ask, rushing to the back door. ‘How did he get outside?’ He’s only three months old. He can’t be let out yet and I’m strict about making sure he stays in.

  I open the door and find my little orange cat, meowing pitifully in the cold. I scoop him up and bring him inside. ‘How did he get out there?’ I ask.

  Liam shrugs, spooning curry into his mouth. ‘Must have escaped somehow.’

  I frown. ‘My poor love,’ I say, cuddling the cat against my body for warmth. ‘He’s freezing. I’m so glad he didn’t run off.’

  Tiger slinks around my chair, rubbing against my ankles. Liam looks at him with a scowl. I don’t think he likes cats as much as dogs. And Tiger must sense it, as he’s taken to spitting and arching his back whenever Liam comes too close.

  After dinner, Liam takes me by the hand and, without a word, leads me upstairs. My breath catches. We’re going to make love. I’m so nervous; I don’t want to upset him.

  ‘Do you want a shower?’ he asks when we reach the bedroom.

  I don’t because I had one a few hours ago, but I nod anyway and take one, as he’s obviously hinting that I should. When I come out in my dressing gown, I find Liam sitting on the edge of my bed. ‘There you go,’ he says with a smile. ‘Lovely and clean. Come here.’ He holds out his hand.

  I step forward and he undoes the belt on my dressing gown so that it falls open. I swallow, flames rippling up my body as he runs his fingers across my stomach and hips and then kisses me just below my belly button. He lets out a groan. ‘Are you mine?’ he asks in a murmur.

  I stroke his hair, holding his head against my stomach. ‘Yes,’ I say.

  ‘You’ve saved me,’ he murmurs. ‘You know that?’

  I hold his head against my stomach, feeling his grip on me tighten as he burrows his face against my belly and breathes in deep. ‘I thought women would only betray me, but you’re different. I’m so glad I found you.’

  ‘I’m glad too,’ I say, feeling my heart fill up with love.

  He lays me down on the bed and then he takes off his clothes. He lies beside me and pushes my legs apart and I let out a gasp. It’s all going a bit fast. I’ve never had a good sexual experience, and I was hoping with Liam things would be different. I want to tell him to wait, but the words are frozen on my tongue. It hurts when he pushes inside me, but I can tell he likes it. He’s happy, and that’s what counts.

  ‘Is that good?’ he asks.

  I nod, tears prickling my eyes.

  ‘Tell me,’ he urges. ‘Tell me how good it feels.’

  I have no idea what I’m meant to say – I can’t speak – but he’s insistent. ‘It’s great,’ I mumble, mortified.

  Finally, it’s over.

  He rolls off and then he looks at me, shaking his head in wonder and grinning. I feel so relieved. He seems to have liked it. ‘I love you,’ he says.

  ‘I love you too,’ I answer, feeling a glow inside.

  He gets up to use the bathroom and I lie there, feeling as though I’m being swallowed up by the mattress. I don’t know what to think. Perhaps it’s normal and I’ve just watched too many movies and read too many unrealistic romance novels. Maybe my body isn’t made the right way. A little niggle in my mind wonders if I should tell him that I’d like to take it slower next time, but then the thought of actually coming out with the words makes me want to curl into a ball and die. I’d never be able to admit that to him. I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings; he’s so sensitive to criticism, thanks to his mother.

  When he comes back to bed, I smile at him and he stretches out beside me, pulling me against his chest. I close my eyes. At least this feels good. I feel safe and protected – and I’m loved! For the first time in my life.

  ‘I was thinking,’ Liam says. ‘How about we move in together?’

  I look up at him, astonished. My first thought is that it’s a bit quick – we’ve only been dating a couple of months – but then I think about how much I love him.

  ‘Yes,’ I say, my heart bursting with happiness.

  *

  ‘Where were you?’ Liam asks the moment I open the door.

  ‘The bus was late,’ I murmur, putting down my keys.

  He scowls at me. ‘No, it wasn’t.’

  ‘It was Sonia’s birthday at work. They had a cake.’

  He lifts his eyebrows.

  ‘I didn’t have any,’ I assure him. ‘I just stayed to sing happy birthday, then I came straight home.’

  He narrows his eyes like he doesn’t believe me. I know he has trust issues because of his ex, so I smile reassuringly and walk towards him, but my heart is thumping hard and I feel as if my voice is strangled. ‘I wanted to get back to see you, but I didn’t want to be rude.’

  He softens a little. ‘I don’t like it when you’re late. I worry.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. Did you have a bad day at work?’ I ask.

  He nods gruffly.

  ‘Do you want a massage?’ I ask him.

  Liam nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

  I’m exhausted after a long day at work, but I shrug it off and lead him to the sofa. Massages often lead to sex and though I’m getting more used to being vocal in bed, which is what Liam likes, I’m still no better at actually telling him what I like. I feel like it’s too late now and I don’t want to make him feel inadequate. He likes praise and flattery and I’m happy to give him that. I want him to feel important to me, because he is, and honestly, it probably is good sex and the problem is likely with me.

  When Liam came into work the first time, I saw the envy on my colleagues’ faces. They couldn’t believe how gorgeous he was. They think I’m lucky. Having seen my mum and dad fighting all the time, I know that no relationship is perfect. Everyone has to make compromises and if the only one I have to make is to offer kindness and to flatter him, then I can do that.

  As I knead his knotted shoulders, I can feel him start to relax. I wonder if now might be the time to discuss the bills and how we’ll pay rent. He hasn’t offered yet to contribute, but I think it’s just because he’s so busy. He says he has a lot of cases to deal with, so I decide I’ll wait and ask him in the morning.

  But I don’t ask him in the morning because he has to leave early, called in by his boss to work a domestic violence assault. ‘The husband beat his wife half to death because she didn’t have dinner on the table when he got home from work,’ he tells me, downing his coffee in one swallow and grabbing his keys.

  I breathe in deep, shuddering, and then kiss him goodbye. All day I can’t stop thinking about the poor woman, and I hurry home after work, anxious to make sure our dinner is served up at six, just after Liam gets home. I laugh at myself as I pour pasta into the boiling water. It’s not like Liam is violent, and he’d never hit me. He just gets hungry after a long day at work and likes to eat at the same time each evening.

  He likes to taste the food and then score me, too, very occasionally offering up a handshake. I’ve bragged to my mum that I’ve now had two handshakes; something I’m very proud of. I’m becoming an even better cook than she is. She has asked when she might get to taste some of my cooking and judge for herself, but it’s hard to find the time, what with work and Liam.

  After I put the salmon in the oven, I notice that Tiger’s saucers of milk and food are still full. That’s odd, I think to myself. Usually when I get home from work, they’re both empty. I realise I haven’t seen him since I got home.

  ‘Have you seen Tiger?’ I ask Liam.

  He shakes his head. ‘No. When’s dinner?’

  ‘Soon,’ I tell him. ‘Tiger!’

  I se
arch the entire house for the cat; I look under the beds and in the cupboard under the stairs and even in the kitchen cabinets, but there’s no sign of him.

  I open the back door and let out a scream. ‘Oh my god!’

  ‘What is it?’ Liam says, rushing into the kitchen. He gasps when he sees what I’m looking at.

  Tiger is lying outside on the doormat. His little ginger body is twisted, his neck broken. I drop to my knees, sobbing. ‘What did this to him?’ I ask in bewilderment, cradling his tiny body in my lap.

  Liam kneels down beside me to examine the cat. ‘I don’t know,’ he says, equally bewildered. ‘It looks like an animal maybe. A fox?’

  I glance around, tears running down my face. I’ve never seen a fox in the back garden. ‘Poor Tiger,’ I wail. ‘How did he get out?’ I shake my head.

  Liam nods at the window. ‘The window’s open,’ he says. ‘He must have got up there and climbed out.’

  I look up at the window over the sink. That’s weird. I never open it; the latch sticks. ‘I didn’t open it,’ I say.

  Liam shrugs. I open my mouth to ask if he did, but then I shut it again. I don’t want to accuse him. Maybe I’m mistaken and I did open it, and then forgot. And now poor Tiger is dead. I stroke his fur, bent over him and snivelling.

  ‘Do you think there might be something on the app – from the camera – that would show us what killed him?’

  Liam shakes his head. ‘I doubt it. I’d have to go back through hours of footage as well. Come on,’ he says, pulling me to my feet. He takes the cat from my hands and walks into the kitchen, pulling a plastic bag out of the drawer.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I ask him, shocked.

  ‘Disposing of him.’

  ‘You can’t just throw him away,’ I yelp, reaching for the cat.

  Liam looks taken aback and seems about to ask why not, but he stops. ‘Do you want to bury him?’ he asks.

  I nod, still crying.

  ‘OK,’ he says. ‘I’ll dig a hole in the back garden.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I mumble.

  ‘Why don’t you make a coffee for me while I do it?’ he says.

  I bite my lip and nod, tears still welling.

  ‘Stop crying,’ he tells me, looking annoyed. ‘It’s just a cat.’