The Visitor: A psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist

by K. L. Slater

  Otherwise I’d never have done something like that.

  I haven’t even looked at Della’s photographs for a while. That’s how good I feel.

  I’m not going to get carried away this time, but I’m honestly beginning to think that Holly moving here was meant to be.

  She’s the first person I’ve met who I really do think I can trust.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  David

  Holly decides that she’d like to see the film the following Sunday.

  I text her the cinema times and then sit motionless in my bedroom, staring at the phone on my desk.

  After ten long minutes of non-communication, I feel utterly convinced she has changed her mind, but then a pinging noise sounds and her name pops up on the screen.

  Next Sunday at 2 sounds great. Look forward to it! H

  I’ve had texts before, obviously, but just updates from the phone company I’m with or nuisance spam about prize draws. I’ve never had a text from a woman… a friend.

  It feels special. Different.

  I want to keep it all to myself, but of course, when I take my dirty pots downstairs, Mother knows instantly that something is up. She looks at me through narrowed eyes when I refuse a slice of her apple and coconut cake.

  ‘David, I’ve been making your favourite cake for nigh on thirty years now, and in all that time I’ve never known you turn down a slice.’

  ‘I… I’m just not that hungry, Mother,’ I say.

  ‘I’ve told you, love. A bit of graft on a building site would sort him out in no time.’ Brian appears in the kitchen doorway. ‘Sat on your arse day in, day out. That’s your problem, Dave.’

  ‘My name is David.’

  ‘Touchy today, aren’t we? Got a spot of that well-known ailment, single man’s sexual frustration?’

  My hand tightens on the handle of the mug I’m holding.

  ‘Brian, please.’ My mother closes her eyes with a pained expression.

  ‘It’s not healthy. He needs some proper graft and some fresh air in his—’

  ‘I’ve already got a job, and it’s one you need a brain to do.’

  Two red spots appear on Brian’s cheeks. He steps forward, clenching his fists.

  ‘What are you trying to say, you little—’

  ‘Just stop it, you two!’ Mother cries out.

  ‘I’m not going to stand here and listen to that twat talk about my job like that,’ Brian says with quiet menace. ‘He’s no idea of the skill involved in bricklaying.’

  We glare at each other wordlessly.

  I am sick of Brian being in my space and on my back the entire time. Holly’s face flashes into my mind – the way she looks at me, listens with interest to what I have to say – and instead of walking away from the situation, I say something.

  ‘It’s not your job any more, though, is it?’ I hear my voice as though I am an onlooker. It is calm. ‘You had to retire due to ill health… or something along those lines.’

  ‘You’d better shut him up before I do it,’ Brian growls, the two red spots exploding out into the rest of his podgy, sallow face.

  ‘David, enough!’

  He can say what he likes to me, but of course I’m never allowed to retaliate or to point out that I know they sacked him when he fell off his ladder drunk and crushed his leg.

  ‘David, are you…’ Mother lowers her voice as if to stop Brian hearing. ‘Are you taking your tablets?’

  ‘Yes.’ I swallow hard and bite down on my tongue, thinking of yesterday’s tablet, still nestling in its foil.

  The pair of them stare at me, and it feels like I’m standing in fierce sunlight. ‘I’m fine, Mother. Please don’t worry.’

  ‘Yeah. Keep taking the tablets, Dave.’ Brian chuckles mirthlessly.

  My arm pulls back, my fingers release, and I watch as the large, heavy mug sails through the air and glances against Brian’s temple.

  Mother screams as he staggers back, grabbing on to the corner of the table to support himself.

  The mug shatters and lies in pieces on the floor. Mother runs to Brian, fussing needlessly when there’s not a jot wrong with him.

  I stand quietly and watch. It feels like one of those TV dramas is playing out in front of me.

  Mother and Brian are whispering to each other, but I don’t care. I’m not going to be the first to leave the room.

  Interestingly, the anger that flared earlier has now drained from him, and, glaring at me as he passes, he limps back to the comfort of the television in the other room.

  ‘David, I’ve never known you like this, not since… Perhaps you need to see the doctor.’

  ‘I don’t need to see the doctor. I just need him to leave our home.’

  Mother sees a chance to make amends. ‘He’s out all day at the match next Sunday, so we can have a nice time at home together. I’ll cook a roast dinner and we’ll watch something on television. It’ll be just like the old days. How does that sound?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t next Sunday,’ I say quickly. ‘I’m…’ My voice drops to a whisper. ‘I’m going out.’

  Mother’s mouth falls open and the cake knife clatters from her hand onto the worktop.

  ‘Out? Out where? With whom?’

  I slide this way and that on my stockinged feet and my hands start that habit they have of twisting in on themselves.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I say.

  ‘It’s that girl next door, isn’t it?’ Her voice hardens. ‘Mrs Barrett’s visitor?’

  I don’t look up.

  ‘I knew it.’ Mother grabs hold of my shoulders. ‘Look at me, David.’

  I look at her and her eyes burn into mine like glowing coals.

  ‘It’s too soon to be thinking of getting involved with another—’

  ‘We’re just friends,’ I say curtly. ‘We’re going to the cinema. That’s all it is, Mother.’

  ‘That’s how it starts, as well you know.’ She snorts. ‘You’re playing with fire, David. Just think on that.’

  I turn around and walk out of the kitchen.

  As I step over Brian’s muddy boots, I wonder where he’s been to get them caked up like that, and then I remember. He’s always down the bottom of the garden. I kick one on purpose as I head for the stairs.

  Mother’s bound to worry, I know that, but I am fine. I haven’t felt so clear-headed and optimistic for ages.

  Holly is different to… anyone else. I’ve already decided that I will confide in her at some point, if we become good friends.

  I’m not dangerous, I’m not out of control, whatever others might think.

  The last thing I want to do is scare Holly away.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Holly

  On Monday morning, all Kellington’s staff convened as usual on the ground floor for the morning briefing. Emily’s absence was glaring.

  ‘As you’ll see, no Emily this morning,’ Josh said matter-of-factly. ‘Sadly, she has now left the company. She handed in her notice late on Friday.’

  There was a collective gasp as everyone glanced at each other and a second or two of awkward silence ensued. Josh didn’t fill in the blanks; instead he simply launched into the day’s new products overview.

  After the briefing, everyone disbanded and Josh went straight upstairs to Mr Kellington’s office.

  Holly stood in her usual area of the showroom.

  She realised that under Emily’s ever-critical glare, she’d subconsciously defaulted to the rear of the space. Now she walked forward and stood in what had been Emily’s hallowed spot.

  The March sunlight that usually lit Emily up like an archangel flooded in through the enormous window and did the same to Holly. It felt so good that it was now she whose face was turned towards the rays.

  She found she couldn’t stand in the sun for long, though. She still had a dull headache from her drinking binge at the weekend.

  She had quickly polished off the bottle of wine she’d broug
ht with her from Manchester, and when Cora had run short of milk on Sunday morning, she’d taken the opportunity to pop to the local shop, where she’d invested in another two bottles.

  She’d told Cora she felt under the weather and had spent most of the weekend in her bedroom, cowering from the sound of the telephone ringing or a loud knock at the front door.

  But neither had happened. It seemed as if she’d done a good job of scaring herself senseless over nothing again.

  Still, it was wonderful to feel so relaxed at the beginning of the day, instead of focusing on keeping out of Emily’s way and trying to avoid annoying her in some inconsequential and unavoidable way.

  Ben and Martyn were chatting at the top end of the showroom in their usual spots and the atmosphere felt so… well, nice.

  ‘Hasn’t taken you long to jump into Emily’s shoes, I see!’

  Holly spun round to see Josh approaching, a teasing grin plastered on his face.

  ‘I wasn’t… I mean, I’m not…’

  ‘Hello? It was a joke.’ He shook his head. ‘If you hadn’t been standing in her plum spot when I came down, I’d have asked you why not.’

  ‘I’m shocked she isn’t here,’ Holly said. ‘I didn’t think she’d get fired for what happened.’

  ‘What she did, it was pretty serious, considering.’ Josh shrugged. ‘Damaging an exclusive piece like the Lalique vase and then trying to pin the blame on a colleague. You’re very generous, Holly. If she’d accused me, I would’ve demanded she get fired.’

  He checked the price of a standard lamp next to him and ticked it off on a clipboard he held in the crook of his arm.

  ‘Anyway, she wasn’t fired. Mr Kellington was willing to issue her with a final written warning, but she took it upon herself to resign. Told him to stick his job where the sun don’t shine… charming, eh?’

  ‘Wow.’ Holly took in this new information. ‘She wouldn’t want the stigma of it, I suppose. Colleagues and customers gossiping about her.’

  Josh pulled the corners of his mouth down and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Dunno. She said she had something far more important to do with her time, and that…’ he affected a sinister tone, ‘we’d all find out soon enough. Creepy!’

  ‘What did she mean by that?’ Holly asked faintly.

  ‘Who knows what anything means with Emily?’ He grinned. ‘Good riddance is what I say. No place for that sort of underhanded business here at Kellington’s.’

  Holly stepped back and leaned against the heavy glass dining table behind her.

  Emily’s comments had sounded like some sort of veiled threat. And Holly had been on the receiving end of her threats before.

  ‘What happened to the girl who had the job before I came?’ she asked. ‘Why did she leave?’

  The grin slid from Josh’s face. ‘Why do you ask?’

  She told him what Emily had said about her, and her subsequent warning in the staffroom.

  ‘Oh God, I had no idea she’d been so bad with you.’ He swallowed. ‘You should’ve come to me, Holly, you should’ve—’

  ‘So how did Emily get rid of the last girl?’

  Josh was silent for a few seconds before clearing his throat.

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t discuss private staff matters.’ He took a step back from her. ‘Confidentiality and all that. I know you’ll understand.’

  Holly’s interest was immediately piqued. Whatever had happened to the last member of staff Emily hadn’t liked might have well happened to her too. Irritation with Josh squirmed in her throat.

  ‘Anyway, cheer up,’ Josh said brightly. ‘Mr Kellington’s in no rush to take someone else on, so he wanted me to ask if you feel confident enough to look after Emily’s regular customers.’

  She wasn’t sure she could follow Emily’s Oscar-winning performances with Mr and Mrs Fenwick, but she felt delighted that Mr Kellington had displayed such faith in her.

  ‘I’d love to, thanks.’

  She pushed Emily’s bitter words before leaving to the back of her mind. What could the woman do to her, really? Nothing. Unless she wanted to do time for it.

  ‘Excellent.’ Josh began to walk away. ‘I’ll tell him right now and you can thank me with a cream cake on payday… You’ve got to spend that enormous commission on something worthwhile, right?’

  Commission! She reminded herself she’d be raking it in big-time now Emily had gone.

  A pleasant place to work and a big fat pay packet… what was not to like?

  * * *

  It had been normal for Geraldine’s mood to be on the low side.

  Holly had quickly come to realise that although Brendan popped in and out of the house most days, he stayed away from home a lot. Consequently, there had been an ongoing expectation for Holly to think of suitable ways to cheer his wife up.

  It didn’t sound much, but Holly actually found it hard work to make suggestions and motivate Geraldine, particularly when she was feeling low. So it had made a pleasant change when Geraldine had approached her, upbeat, one morning.

  ‘Brendan is home for dinner tonight and I’m cooking him something nice. Let’s sit down over breakfast and discuss what needs to be done.’

  Holly made skinny lattes at the coffee machine whilst Geraldine scribbled notes. She eventually decided on beef stroganoff with rice and a simple pavlova for dessert.

  Holly had watched enviously as her employer scrolled through Google looking for suitable recipes. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to have your own phone to play with, swiping through the various screens.

  She’d written Aunt Susan a short note as Geraldine had suggested, and the housekeeper, Patricia, had kindly posted it for her. But that had been a little while ago now and she’d had no reply.

  It was at that point that Holly had realised that although she was out of the house a lot, shopping, at the cinema or restaurants, she was never out alone. Since she’d arrived, she had been constantly in Geraldine’s company in and out of the house.

  There was nothing wrong with it; just a funny little fact, she’d thought at the time. And when she’d mentioned it to Geraldine, she’d shrugged and asked Holly coolly if that was a problem for her. Holly hadn’t mentioned it again.

  ‘I’ll help you get everything ready for the meal and then I’ll disappear upstairs to my room before Brendan gets home,’ she told Geraldine now.

  ‘No way!’ Geraldine had grabbed her hand. ‘The three of us will eat together, I insist on it.’

  Holly had smiled and successfully hidden the uncomfortable stirring in her stomach. She certainly didn’t relish playing gooseberry to those two.

  She had noticed that Geraldine was very touchy-feely with Brendan, on the few brief occasions he stayed at the house longer than ten minutes. It was as if she saw so little of him, she had to make it count when she did.

  After an afternoon at Waitrose getting all the stuff, and then a couple of hours in the kitchen preparing the dishes, Holly had felt exhausted and sorely wished she’d got the night off.

  In the last week or so, Geraldine had been proving to be very hard work.

  On the face of it, Holly’s job sounded like every young girl’s dream. Lunching out in fabulous eateries, watching films, shopping, coffee and endless chats… but she had soon realised she could never be herself.

  She hadn’t thought she even liked herself that much, but now that ‘new Holly’ was the only one around, she’d started to mourn the more relaxed, authentic version of herself.

  The one that wasn’t always kowtowing to Geraldine, always down in the gym, always watching what she ate.

  She could never complain that she was too tired for the next marathon shopping trip, or tell Geraldine that actually she didn’t feel like watching yet another episode of The Real Housewives of Orange County. She couldn’t decline Geraldine’s offer to accompany her to the nail and hair salon and say that she’d much rather stay in her bedroom and read, or go for a nice relaxed walk around the grounds for a bit
of space and fresh air.

  It was also a job that had no set hours. Holly was on call twenty-four hours a day. One time Brendan was working away and Geraldine had suffered a stomach upset in the middle of the night and been unable to sleep. Holly had also been roused from her slumbers and summoned downstairs to look after her boss as you would do a sick child.

  It was times like this that she had known she must swallow down the resentment that clotted in her chest.

  She’d still felt lucky to have the job, but with no contract to refer to, she didn’t know whether she’d actually signed up to such demands, so she couldn’t begin to do anything about it.

  Maybe, she’d thought, when she had Brendan and Geraldine together at last tonight, it would be a good chance to try broaching one or two uncomfortable subjects again.

  It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Holly

  Halfway through the first week at Kellington’s without Emily on her tail, Holly felt like her life was truly coming together in ways she could never have envisaged.

  Most of Emily’s customers recognised her and made a beeline for her as they entered the store, and as a result, her month-end commission bonus was growing daily.

  She felt delighted that she’d taken the trouble to introduce herself and say hello to the regular customers, even when Emily was the one who was benefiting from their spend. That decision was really paying dividends now.

  They had all been terribly shocked when Holly enlightened them about Emily’s sudden departure from the store. Josh had advised her not to discuss what had happened unless the customers themselves raised it, but actually, she’d taken great delight in instigating the conversations.

  The Fenwicks’ had been the best reaction. When she told them that Emily had left the store after damaging the Lalique vase, she thought Mrs Fenwick was going to need to be medically revived.