The Visitor: A psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist

by K. L. Slater

  Holly had accepted the proffered pen and started to read through the contract, although it had been difficult to focus on it because Brendan had continued talking to her.

  He’d told her briefly that Markus had begun his new job as assistant manager at one of his nightclubs.

  ‘One of my guys will bring your stuff over from the apartment later,’ he’d said. ‘Markus has already left for Newcastle.’

  ‘Newcastle?’ She’d stopped reading and looked up at him in surprise.

  ‘That’s where the club is.’ He’d shrugged. ‘Got to follow the work, right?’

  What he’d said was true, of course. Markus had to pursue his own new start, but she’d felt unexpectedly vulnerable at the news that he’d already left. There was nobody here she knew well any more. She was alone in a strange city.

  ‘Hey, don’t look so put out.’ Brendan had smiled kindly. ‘We’ll look after you.’

  She’d smiled back gratefully. She had no right to feel sorry for herself, living the dream like this.

  ‘Holly… come and see!’ Geraldine had called brightly from the hallway.

  She’d pushed the contract aside and stood up.

  ‘Can you just sign that before Geraldine commandeers you? Myra will chew my ear off if I go back without it, and I have another bloody meeting in an hour.’ Brendan had held out his hand for the paperwork.

  Holly had hesitated. She’d hardly read any of the contract yet, and there were four double-sided stapled pages filled top to bottom with official-looking typed clauses.

  ‘I’ll bring a copy back with me later so you can read through it at your leisure,’ Brendan had added. ‘Is that OK with you?’

  She’d smiled and nodded, signing and dating the document on each page, as indicated.

  Why give it a second thought? She’d got to stop acting like everyone was just waiting to do her down. She reminded herself that she’d left that all behind now. She was among professional people who were going to help her make a better life.

  ‘We’d usually want references, but I think we’re pretty good judges of character, and we know Markus,’ Brendan had said. ‘You seem like a good sort to me.’

  She’d blushed. Then Geraldine had called her name again.

  ‘Thanks, Brendan,’ Holly had said before leaving the room. ‘I really do appreciate what you’re doing for me.’

  Chapter Forty-Five

  David

  Two years and three months ago, I found out that Mr Brown, who lives two doors down, was having an extramarital affair.

  I’d realised over time. Although I’ve always kept an eye on proceedings from my bedroom for Neighbourhood Watch purposes, I had a full-time job at the printing firm at the time, and in those days I enjoyed visiting the local library’s reading room so I didn’t sit at home in my room as much.

  Mr Brown had lost his job and been out of work for a few weeks, and Mother had told me that Mrs Brown, who sometimes took tea with Mrs Barrett of an afternoon at the local café, had been forced to increase her hours at the local dental surgery when their income dropped.

  The surgery opened at eight a.m. prompt, and Mrs Brown, who struck me as an organised, efficient individual, would leave the house at seven fifteen in the morning, five days a week.

  It just so happened that at that precise time, I’d already taken my shower and would be getting ready in the bathroom for work myself.

  I’d always have the side-opening window ajar to help disperse the trapped steam, and as I stood in front of the mirror combing my hair one particular morning, I noticed that, fifteen minutes after Mrs Brown had left, a black cab pulled up.

  A woman – who, it had to be said, looked quite a bit younger than the lady of the house – got out and was met at the door by none other than Mr Brown himself.

  Truthfully, I didn’t think much of it at the time, but when it happened twice more that week, my interest was most definitely piqued.

  The third time the taxi dropped the young lady off, I gave in to an impulsive whim. I called work and informed the office that due to a minor medical matter, I’d be a little late in.

  I left the house and waited at the end of the crescent, where I had a good view of all the houses. Within the hour, Mr Brown’s front door opened and he kissed the young lady goodbye in full view of anyone who cared to watch. There was no cab to collect her, and she walked down to the main road, towards me.

  When she passed me, I looked at my watch as if I was waiting for someone. She was young and pretty and smelled faintly of talcum powder.

  That was the first time I’d been close to Miss Della Carter, and as soon as she’d disappeared around the corner, I had a very strong urge to get close to her again.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Holly

  At the end of the day, the staff gathered their belongings. Martyn was first out, calling goodbye to the others.

  ‘Damn it!’ Holly and Ben both turned at Emily’s loud cursing as she came downstairs in her flat driving shoes, rifling in her handbag. She stomped over to her desk and dumped the bag on there.

  ‘What’s up?’ Ben asked.

  ‘I can’t find my car keys,’ she muttered. ‘But they’ve got to be in here somewhere.’

  Josh passed on his way out of the shop and stopped to watch, mildly curious.

  ‘On overtime, Em? You’re usually first out the door,’ he teased.

  ‘Yeah, well, that was before my car keys decided to do a bloody disappearing act,’ she growled, both hands immersed in her vast cavern of a bag. ‘Sod this, I’ve got a nail appointment in fifteen minutes. Drastic measures are called for.’

  She upended the bag onto her desk, and Holly watched as Ben and Josh both peered down at the mountainous heap of items that emerged.

  ‘Blimey!’ Josh said. ‘It’s true what they say, Ben. Everything in there but the kitchen sink.’

  The two men sniggered, and then Josh’s face grew more serious. He scowled and peered closer at the tangle of tissues and mints and make-up.

  ‘Isn’t that…’ He cocked his head to one side and squinted, as if trying to make sense of something.

  ‘What is it?’ Emily snapped. ‘It’s keys I’m looking for.’

  Her jaw dropped as she followed Josh’s pointing finger and looked down at her belongings.

  ‘Isn’t that one of the glass flowers from the broken vase?’ Ben said, incredulously. ‘Look, there’s another…’ Only then did he seem to realise the implication of his words and hastily clamped his mouth shut.

  Holly pushed her chair back, stood up and walked over to Emily’s desk.

  ‘The chipped-off flowers,’ she breathed, stepping in closer. ‘What are they doing in your handbag, Emily?’

  Emily opened her mouth but seemed unable to enunciate any words. She looked up wild-eyed at Holly, Josh and Ben, who stood around silently in a semicircle.

  ‘What’s this, an impromptu staff meeting?’ Mr Kellington called across in a jolly voice. ‘I say, can anyone join in?’

  ‘I think you need to take a look at this, boss,’ Josh said gravely. ‘Something’s come to light.’

  ‘I… I swear on my mother’s life, I don’t know how they got in there,’ Emily stammered, wringing her hands. ‘I mean, I’d hardly empty out my bag in front of everyone if I knew they were in there, now would I?’

  ‘But you didn’t do it in front of everyone! You emptied it out in a temper looking for your keys and we came to see,’ Holly reminded her.

  It was only natural that she’d enjoy paying her colleague back for her earlier aggression… wasn’t it?

  Mr Kellington didn’t speak.

  With pincered fingers, he gingerly picked out a flower and studied it in his palm. He did the same twice more until there were three tiny pink glass flowers nestling there, shining prettily under the lights.

  ‘Most definitely the Lalique flowers,’ he said sadly.

  Holly found herself shaking her head. Earlier, Emily had enjoyed humiliatin
g her in front of everyone, and now here she was, fighting for her own life.

  Fat tears began to roll down Emily’s cheeks, leaving pale tracks in the heavy blusher and powder. Holly couldn’t help staring. She’d never seen the ice queen sobbing before.

  ‘Someone’s set me up,’ she spluttered, suddenly a sad, soggy mess. ‘Someone has made it look like I damaged that vase. And I didn’t… I didn’t!’

  ‘Who?’ Josh said, unconvinced. ‘Who on earth would set you up?’

  ‘You were the one who noticed the damage,’ Holly added. ‘You brought it to Josh’s attention in the first place.’

  Emily glared at her.

  ‘And I saw you stow your handbag in your locker this morning,’ Ben said. ‘So the flowers must’ve already been in there when you got to work at the start of the day.’

  ‘Sounds like the damage must have been done after I put the vase on display,’ Holly added.

  Emily’s head snapped round, her face a mask of hatred. ‘I don’t know how you did this, but—’

  ‘That’s quite enough,’ Mr Kellington interrupted. ‘All this bickering is going to help precisely no one. Emily, Josh, I need you to come up to my office right away. Holly, Ben… have a good weekend.’

  Holly walked out of the back of the store and into the fresh, bracing air.

  ‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall up there. What a palaver.’ Ben rolled his eyes.

  ‘I’m glad the truth is out, though,’ Holly said. ‘I was beginning to think everyone thought I’d done the damage.’

  Ben had the grace to look a little shamefaced as he wished her a good weekend.

  As she walked past the glass kiosk, she looked in to see the young lad who did the afternoon car park shift painstakingly copying details onto a sheet of paper by hand.

  ‘Night, miss,’ he called after her as she walked out onto the street.

  Holly smiled. Her first week had certainly been eventful, and rather stressful at times, but all had ended well and she now felt pleasantly vindicated after enduring sly and sometimes accusing looks from some of the others.

  It had been a long, long time since she’d looked forward to the weekend, but right now, that was how she felt.

  This new world of hers was real. Her job was grounded in a normal environment.

  That had not been her experience working for Geraldine and Brendan.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Holly

  She’d been at Medlock Hall for two and a half weeks and still hadn’t grown accustomed to the feeling of euphoria that washed over her when she opened her eyes each morning and found herself in that bedroom.

  But this was no fairy-tale dream; this really was her new life.

  She’d propped herself up against the mounds of duck-feather-filled pillows and looked out of the window. As with the apartment, she’d refused to close the curtains so that she could take in the view the second she opened her eyes.

  The perfect landscaped gardens had seemed never to end, but of course Holly had known that beyond the far wall of neatly trimmed conifers lay the road.

  Her job was basically to be best friend and confidante to Geraldine. Not a real best friend, however; there was an important difference.

  She had very quickly realised that when Geraldine asked her something – Does this colour suit me? or Does my hair look OK at the back? – there was a right answer or opinion required. It was far more in her own interests to express the correct response than it was to speak the truth.

  She had soon got the hang of it and it didn’t really bother her at all. So far as she was concerned, she had the best job in the world. No complaints at all.

  Every day, Geraldine seemed to approve and rely on her company more and more. They literally hung out together all the time.

  Brendan hadn’t spent much time at the house. He’d returned every day at some point and Holly would be expected to just disappear up to her bedroom for at least a couple of hours.

  She’d welcomed that, looked forward to free time in which she could do what she wanted.

  Geraldine asked her all the time would she like to do this or would she prefer to do that, but of course, as with other questions posed, there was a right answer. And that was for Holly to prefer to do whatever Geraldine wanted to do.

  But Holly had hardly found it a hardship.

  One thing still bothered her slightly, and that was the fact that she’d still not got her stuff back from the apartment after staying there the first night.

  It had kept slipping Brendan’s mind. Each time she’d asked, he’d hit the side of his head with the heel of his hand.

  ‘Sorry! My mind has been like a sieve lately. I’ll definitely sort it out later today.’

  Each subsequent excuse had been a variation on this one. He seemed to have no trouble just plucking something out of the air. Eventually, she’d stopped asking.

  Anyway, apart from a couple of bits – her mobile phone and a small, tatty photograph of her mother and a five-year-old Holly – there had been nothing she’d missed or needed.

  The wall of mirrored wardrobes now concealed rails of clothes that fitted her perfectly, hanging neatly behind the doors.

  The day after Holly accepted the job, Geraldine had taken her to the Trafford Centre, and they’d spent the day there selecting everything from underwear to a warm wool coat.

  They’d taken time out in the middle of the day for a boozy lunch at a restaurant far beyond Holly’s own financial capabilities. The waiter led them to a leather cushioned booth under glitzy lighting. They sat, enveloped in a discreet soundcloud of Ibiza chill-out tunes.

  The menu had been amazing, packed with creamy, cheesy American-style dishes that made Holly’s mouth water. But she’d known Geraldine would order a Caesar salad without dressing, and that she’d expect Holly to choose something similar.

  ‘It makes me feel queasy to even look at that,’ Geraldine had said the on the day of Holly’s arrival and the first time they’d eaten out together. Holly had ordered a bowl of chilli con carne and rice with sides of sour cream and cheese. ‘All that fat and cholesterol… I couldn’t bear to touch it.’

  She’d been quiet at the restaurant during dinner and a bit moody for the rest of the evening. Holly had got the message loud and clear and hadn’t made the same mistake since.

  Even though it felt a bit cheeky, once they’d relaxed into lunch, Holly had plucked up courage and mentioned the fact that she still had no mobile phone. Although Aunt Susan had her faults, she felt a quick call was in order, just to tell her she was OK and not to worry. She felt she owed her that much despite their final heated words.

  She had already noted that there appeared to be no landline at the house; Geraldine had said there was only the one in Brendan’s locked study, which was used purely for broadband purposes.

  ‘I know it sounds completely paranoid, but we don’t allow staff to keep personal mobile phones on the property,’ she had explained in a regretful tone. ‘We had a very bad experience once where Brendan’s confidentiality was compromised by a disloyal staff member and it cost him nearly a hundred grand in a lost deal.’

  Holly had widened her eyes.

  ‘I know.’ Geraldine had rolled her own eyes. ‘He acted like a bear with a sore head for weeks after that. Sometimes you’ll be party to business conversations or perhaps catch sight of confidential paperwork around the house, and it’s just easier for us all if there are no mobile phones to take photographs or record conversations. That’s why he asked you to sign the confidentiality agreement.’

  Holly nodded and remembered that Brendan still hadn’t provided a copy of her signed contract. She hadn’t seen the confidentiality agreement yet and she’d hate to unwittingly breach it.

  ‘I know you’d never do anything like that,’ Geraldine had added quickly. ‘But we have to treat everyone the same, you see. It’s only fair.’

  Holly had pondered on the fact that she was yet to see any other staff in the house
apart from Patricia.

  She had sipped her Bellini – Geraldine’s favourite drink – and explained about her wish to contact her aunt.

  ‘That’s easily solved. I’ll get you some pretty notelets and then you can write to her as and when you like. How’s that?’

  ‘Or I could use your phone just to make a quick call,’ Holly had suggested. ‘I wouldn’t be on long, just so she knows I’m OK.’

  Geraldine’s lips had pressed together briefly before she relaxed them again into a smile.

  ‘I’m sure your Aunt Susan would much prefer you to drop her a note. It’s so much more personal, don’t you think?’

  Holly hadn’t wanted to prolong the subject, but it seemed like a good opportunity to bring up the second thing she was missing.

  ‘And… I wondered if there was a laptop in the house I could use at all?’

  ‘Goodness! Whatever for?’ Geraldine had run her fingers irritably through her perfect chestnut curls. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just tired. Was there something in particular you wanted to do on the computer?’

  ‘Just general browsing online and streaming movies and music.’ Holly had shrugged. ‘Nothing specific.’

  ‘I’d have to ask Brendan, but the smart television in your bedroom streams everything, and you can play games on there, go on YouTube… everything you need, really.’

  ‘Yes.’ Holly had nodded, keen not to appear ungrateful. ‘That’s great, thanks, Geraldine.’

  She’d hoped she might be able to track Markus down on Facebook or something. She’d heard nothing at all from him since he’d left, although when she’d asked Brendan, he’d told her Markus was loving his job at the Newcastle club.

  She couldn’t help feeling a bit miffed that he’d just left like that without saying goodbye.