by Gwyn GB
‘When did you become aware of the stalker?’
Claire can tell Rachel’s mind is racing too.
‘About a month before Neil died. It was really low key to begin with.’
Claire jots down in her notebook and is about to look up and ask another question when Rachel’s mobile buzzes that a message has come through.
Rachel looks at her phone on the kitchen table, then at Claire.
Claire doesn’t need to ask who it’s from, the dread is written across Rachel’s face. Slowly she lifts up her phone and reads it. Her face hardens and she shoves it away from her towards Claire.
She takes the phone, ‘The police can’t protect you - I’m coming for you,’ is the text message.
‘We will protect you Rachel, I promise,’ she says to her.
Rachel has paled.
‘I just wish I knew who it was, why they’re doing it,’ she says, quietly.
‘I know, but we must be getting closer now. Let me just phone this in and have a chat with the team.’
She goes to leave the room and then thinks of the question she was going to ask before.
‘Rachel, have you ever seen Gary with a partner?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean you say he’s gay, but have you actually seen him with someone, seen photos, heard them calling, has he ever talked about anybody?’
Rachel thinks for a few moments, ‘Well now you come to mention it, no. He’s never talked about anyone specific.’
Claire nods, ‘OK, thanks, give me a few minutes.’
Bob is more than a little interested in her news and he has some of his own.
‘We spoke to Gary Foster’s landlady. She was absolutely certain he was out the night of Neil’s murder because she distinctly remembers him coming back in after she’d watched Married at First Sight on Channel 4, and thinking about how he didn’t have a partner and yet he worked at a dating agency.’
‘He told us he was home all night.’
‘Yup and so we checked out the nearby CCTV and she’s right. She also mentioned that apparently he often comes back quite late.’
‘Maybe that’s why Rachel’s stalker isn’t showing their face, because it’s someone she knows well.’
45
Claire, 18th October 2016
Bob is playing hard ball. He’s had Gary Foster arrested for obstruction and they’re on their way to the station.
‘I’m sick and tired of mucking about with this case,’ Bob tells Claire, ‘We need to start ruling some people out or ruling them in properly. The only way we’re going to get them talking is to put the wind up them. Neil was Gary’s client, he’s got no alibi and he’s being decidedly cagey. If he knows something, I want to know it.’
Claire finishes her phone call to Bob and then apologises to Rachel.
‘Something has come up so I’ve got to get back to the station. You’ve got the panic button. Keep it with you at all times.’
Rachel nods.
‘Are you coming back?’ she asks.
Claire thinks for a few moments, looking at the frightened woman in front of her.
‘Do you want me to pop back this evening? I could get us a takeaway and perhaps if he sees my car parked up outside he’ll be scared off,’ Claire finds herself saying. She’d never usually make an offer like this but Rachel looks like she needs the company and it’s not as if she’s got anyone to rush home for.
Rachel brightens.
‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’
‘OK. Chinese, Thai or Indian?’
‘Indian please.’
Claire leaves with her conscience feeling slightly better and some hope that maybe they’ll get to the bottom of Rachel’s stalker before the day is out.
When Claire drives back to the station, there’s a small huddle of people standing in the car park talking. It’s Jack and Lara with two of his mates, Cal and Stewart. Instantly she freezes. It’s so hard seeing Jack with someone else. Especially as he looks so damned happy about it. Lara looks radiant, as though she’s been somehow filled with sunshine. They’re holding hands. Claire momentarily indulges a fantasy of pressing her foot on the accelerator and knocking the smiling Lara and Jack over like pins at a bowling alley.
She parks as far away from them as she can. She hates this feeling and most of all she hates the intrusion on her working life. As she gets out the car Stewart says something to the group and they laugh. Is it about her? What’s he said? Are they laughing at her?
She never did like that Stewart. She was sure he thought she was too boring for Jack. Always encouraging him to do daft things. You can guarantee that he would be the one wearing the stupid hats and outfits at any party. A complete goon.
There’s a small rage inside of her fuelled by humiliation and by a terrible feeling of loneliness. She sees Jack surrounded by friends, happy with Lara. Then she sees her flat, her life, empty and quiet. No one but her to fill its void. Has she made a mistake? Has she thrown away a relationship which made her happy? Was it Jack who was the one having to put up with her social inadequacy? She quickly walks inside ignoring them. She’ll take it out on Gary Foster instead.
Claire can tell Bob is also in no mood for messing about. This case is irritating him. When Gary Foster sits down with the duty solicitor, Bob wastes no time.
‘Mr Foster, could we start by asking you again, this time on the tape, where you were on the evening of October 13th?’
‘I was at home.’
‘All night?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well unfortunately for you, your landlady has a good memory and she’s told us she heard you coming back around 11pm. We have CCTV footage to confirm this. Now do you want to try again? Where were you on the evening of October 13th?’
‘Um… maybe I got the dates mixed up,’ Gary looks to the solicitor, ‘I’ll have to check my diary again.’
‘Mr Foster you have had plenty of time to check your diary. You know which night we are referring to and it’s not so long ago that you won’t be able to think back. I ask again. Where were you on the night of the 13th October?’
Gary’s right leg starts jiggling under the interview room table.
‘I was working late.’
‘Working late! Working until 11pm? What were you doing?’
‘I can’t remember,’ Gary mumbles and sniffs.
‘Surely Mr Foster, it must be unusual to have to work until around 11pm, so can you try hard and think back to that night. We can check CCTV around the office to corroborate.’
‘I can’t.’
‘You can’t because you won’t or you can’t because you don’t know yourself?’
‘I just can’t.’
‘You have to understand Gary that this looks suspicious from our point of view. Neil was your client, in fact, Neil’s phone records show that you spoke to him that afternoon, but you can’t say where you were at the time of his death.’
Claire looks at Bob, she didn’t know this about the phone call.
Gary now looks frightened.
‘It was a standard client call, I was seeing if he liked any of the matches I’d sent through to him. There were a few women keen to meet him.’
‘You didn’t mention you’d talked to him that day when we last spoke.’
‘No, I know, I’d forgotten, I can’t always remember which days I speak to who. Honestly.’
‘Not got a great memory have you? Can’t remember where you were, can’t remember when you spoke to him.’
‘I know how this looks, but it’s nothing to do with Neil’s murder I promise you.’
‘What about Eddie?’
Gary’s face registers surprise.
‘What do you mean, what about Eddie?’
‘I mean do you know if he might have any reason to want Neil dead?’
‘No. No absolutely not.’
‘So you can be certain about some things.’
‘Eddie’s a good man, he set up that agen
cy because he enjoys helping people. He wants them all to have happy ever after endings. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.’
‘He’s on the verge of filing for bankruptcy, the agency has been struggling financially for a long time. Did Neil know this?’
‘I don’t know. No. There was nothing for Eddie to hide. You’re blowing it up out of all proportion.’
‘What about the fake marriages he said were agency clients? What else did he lie about Gary?’
‘Eddie isn’t a murderer I’m telling you, he isn’t.’
‘From where I’m sitting he has the motive. Get rid of those who didn’t look good for the agency image.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Gary looks angry now.
‘Did you help him then Gary?’
‘No. No neither of us hurt anyone. Not like that…’
‘What do you mean not like that?’
‘I just mean, no.’ Gary is starting to crumble again and he looks at his solicitor who raises his eyebrow. ‘No comment,’ Gary replies turning back to Bob with defiance.
‘OK. Well no comment isn’t going to make your situation look any better Mr Foster. Are you sure you don’t want to tell us something? Something which might help you? Whoever it is you’re protecting is not here protecting you are they?’
‘No comment.’
‘OK, Mr Foster, you have been clearly lying to us about your whereabouts on the 13th October so perhaps you’d like to take the next hour or so to think about where you really were. We are now terminating this interview at fifteen thirty-five and Mr Foster will be returned to the cells.’
46
Rachel, 18th October 2016
Rachel is sitting down writing names on a pad, dredging faces from her memory. She’s trying to remember all the clients that DI Falle mentioned to her and any others that come to mind, including her colleagues. Of course it could be someone from her past, but who? Who would know she’s here? From the notes she’s been receiving this isn’t some random stalker. One of the names on this list could be the culprit or at least a link to them.
Eddie, Gary, Felicity, Sandra, Rosa, could it be one of them? Could someone she knows so well be trying to harm her?
The panic button sits on the table next to her, it’s reassuring but Rachel tries not to think about the circumstances which might prompt her to use it. She likes DI Falle, it’s obvious she really is trying to help her. She likes the professional way in which she deals with things, rather than the sympathetic approach she’s had from others in the past. She’s not keen on having people round the house, especially strangers, but she’s actually looking forward to tonight and their takeaway.
She looks around her sitting room. The house is always tidy and clean, that’s one thing her aunt drummed into her. She trained her up well after she’d taken her in. Rachel was a feral cat when she first came here, she’d roamed the house looking for answers and escape routes, biting the hand that fed her until she learnt to respect her aunt - even if she never really loved her.
Her aunt has been gone nearly two years now, eaten away by cancer and tormented by death’s denial of dignity. Rachel had returned from her travelling to care for her in those last few weeks. She can still remember turning up at the house after more than a decade away. She was filled with a million new experiences and sights, alive with possibility and opportunity. The house was like an old woman itself, its breath reeking of death and decay as she opened the front door. She’d found her aunt shrivelled and wasted in her bed, waiting for release.
For five long weeks Rachel sat by her bedside and listened to the hushed ramblings of her aunt’s regrets. She had held her hand, her bony claw-like hand, which was cold and unforgiving. She had taken down her instructions for arrangements and contacted those who needed to know. Then she had watched as her aunt’s soul slipped from between her lips and left the body which had given her so much pain.
Rachel had never intended to stay, but somehow she did. She’d found a way to carry on the work she enjoyed at the SoulMates agency and she’d felt needed. Now this shadow is driving her away, threatening her. She knows it’s time to move on.
47
Rachel, May 1994
It is a Friday when she arrives. Rachel is walking up the lane just as some of the fighter jets from the American airbase fly over. The roar of their engines makes the cows look up and stop their chewing and momentarily quietens the birds in the trees. Rachel loves to see the jets, breathing in the sight of them as though she can catch just a tiny scrap of their excitement and freedom when they fly by.
She is still scanning the sky, hoping to catch another glimpse, when she sees the car. It is silver and sporty and it looks expensive. Rachel doesn’t recognise it.
When Rachel walks into the kitchen, she is there with her dad. He’s been crying, and she looks more like a mother to him than a sister. Rachel’s Aunt Alice has come to visit.
‘Rachel!’ her aunt says as though she hadn’t been expecting to see her, ‘How are you?’ She looks her up and down.
‘Hello,’ is all Rachel replies, she’s gotten out of the habit of being civil.
There’s no hug or kiss, no warmth. Aunt Alice is all edges and corners. She is thin and high cheeked, a woman born out of her time. She would have made an excellent stern governess in Queen Victoria’s day.
Whether as an antidote to her hardness, or because she has taken away the responsibility, her father seems to have suddenly become more demonstrative.
‘Rachel come here,’ he says, opening his arms.
She’s almost too surprised to go to him, a dog so long ignored by its master she’s not sure what this affection means. She hesitates feeling the power shift in the room and then walks over, melting into his arms - the hug and love she has longed for.
‘Aunt Alice is visiting us for a few days, isn’t that nice?’
Rachel turns and looks at Aunt Alice, not sure if it’s a nice turn of events or not. Her aunt, sensing the defiance, is quick to assert her authority and claim top status.
‘You go on up to your room Rachel and get changed. Bring those school clothes down for the wash - I assume you do have a washing machine?’
Her dad shakes his head.
‘Then we have some shopping to do tomorrow Rachel, we’ve a busy weekend ahead of us.’
Rachel feels the tension and stress pour out of her father’s body. It takes her a couple more hours before she too rolls over for Aunt Alice, but the prospect of good meals and clean clothes are irresistible incentives.
What Aunt Alice lacks in warmth, she makes up for in organisation and efficiency. She also makes up for it with the fish and chips they go to get - after Aunt Alice has looked in the cupboards and seen the two pans they possess and the lack of food to go in them.
Her zero local knowledge means she needs her brother with her to navigate, and that in turn results in Rachel also going along.
It’s been a long time since Rachel was in a car and she’s never been in a car as nice as this one. Its shiny silver paintwork is perfect, clean except for a thin film of dust from the drive up. Inside is cream leather with a walnut dash and dark grey carpeting. The seat squeaks at her as Rachel gets in and she runs her hands over the soft leather. It’s a Jaguar, sleek and racy like its namesake and Rachel settles into its backseat, a new experience starting to shape her.
They drive into Holt and Rachel waits in the car while Aunt Alice and her dad queue at the Holt Fish Bar for cod and chips. The smells of food reach her nostrils even though she is sealed inside, and her mouth physically salivates. The reaction is made worse as soon as her dad has returned with a bag full of wrapped-in-paper dinners.
She doesn’t think she has ever tasted anything so good. Rachel devours her portion and she and her father share the chips which Aunt Alice, who turns out to be a bird-like eater, doesn’t want. Her aunt moves right to the top of Rachel’s appreciation list, and so when she tells her to get to bed, she complies without complaint. Rachel has been us
ed to setting her own bedtimes since her mother’s death, but a full belly and an organised adult in the house, are enough to make her look forward to sleep.
Saturday morning and Aunt Alice is up early. She stayed at a local Bed and Breakfast, which Rachel suspects is because she didn’t like the look of the guest bedroom. They’ve had mice in there and the smell of damp and mould makes Rachel’s nose wrinkle.
Her aunt arrives at the farmhouse around 9am, having already been to the supermarket. She gets Rachel and her dad to help unload the car which is full of bags of cleaning products, a mop, bucket and lots of food.
Rachel has a proper breakfast for the first time in months and sits in a kitchen that smells of cleaning fluids. The floor is no longer sticky underfoot from months of yard dirt and spillages. The cobwebs Rachel has stared at every meal time, the ones which hang from the ceiling to the central light fitting, they’re gone along with all the others around the walls and ceiling.
Her aunt is a fresh breeze wafting through their house and their lives.
After breakfast Aunt Alice gives her brother a list of things to do, then she tells Rachel to get in the car. They drive into Holt and Rachel hopes someone from school will see her in her Aunt’s Jaguar.
She takes her to Bakers and Larners where she buys Rachel dresses, skirts, tops and new shoes. The smell of clean, new fabrics massages Rachel’s nostrils. They buy some new clothes for her father, some mugs, crockery and cutlery for the kitchen. They get a kettle so they don’t have to keep heating up a saucepan of water for tea, and a big box full of pots and pans. Finally, they get a new Henry hoover to replace the broken one in the under-stairs cupboard.
Once she’s home Rachel takes the bags of clothes up to her bedroom. The shop assistant gave her the hangers too so she carefully takes each purchase out and hangs them up, pulling the old clothes, the ones that are far too small for her, out and tossing them onto her bed.
