I Know Your Every Move

by Diane Ezzard

  “Why, what happened, Nan?” I asked.

  “Well do you know,” she started speaking in a low voice. “They went to Vera’s first. Vera’s bad with her walking, you know. She’s waiting for a hip replacement.”

  She jangled the loose coins in the pocket of her crisply laundered floral apron the way she always did. I once asked her why she kept money in her pocket. She said it was so that she had the right change ready for the window cleaner or the milkman when they called. Nan was one of the few people I knew who still had milk delivered daily by the local farm.

  “Who went to Vera’s, Nan?” Nan had a habit of wandering off the topic of conversation if you weren’t careful.

  “There were two men, they said they were from the Water Board. The even showed her ID. They told her they needed to check her house because a leak been reported in the area. One kept her talking while the other one started searching the place. Next thing you know, they’d taken her handbag, and they were out of there. All over in a jiffy.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible, Nan. Did they get away with much?” I asked.

  “She said she’d been to the post office the day before to draw her pension money out so she had over a hundred pounds in her purse. She said it could have been worse mind ‘cos she always keeps at least a couple of hundred in a jar pig in the kitchen. She’s saving up to go and see her daughter in Torquay.”

  “Oh Nan, I don’t think you should be telling me where she hides her money,” I said.

  “Well I know you’re not going to rob her, our Sophie,” she said

  “That’s not the worst of it, though. Let me tell you, next, they went round to Elsie Drake’s house. She was in with her husband but they knocked her over and got away with over nine hundred pounds. Nine hundred pounds,” she reinforced. “Who keeps that kind of money at home? I mean I know you can’t trust the banks anymore but fancy leaving it in a tin box on top of the sideboard. It wasn’t even under the bed or anything.”

  Nan shook her head. She was unsteady on her feet so she sat down on her brown suede sofa. I sidled up next to her.

  “Poor Mr Grindle, though, he’s come off the worst. He got knocked out completely. I believe he’s got a black eye and cuts and bruises ‘cos he wouldn’t let them into his place. They didn’t get any money from him but he’s had a nasty beating.”

  Taking hold of Nan’s hand, I said, “Oh Nan, you’re going to have to be careful.” I looked at her with concern.

  “It’s alright Sophie. They wouldn’t get in here. I don’t open the door to strangers, whether it is morning, noon or night.” I believed her. There was an occasion once where my dad had gone around unannounced and she wouldn’t even open the door to him. Thinking about the two guys I had bumped into earlier as I walked to Nan’s house, I rubbed my eyes.

  “It’s possible I may have seen the two men responsible. There were a couple of dubious looking characters parked round the corner when I walked up the road. It might be a coincidence but it could have been them. I’m going to nip back and see if the car’s still there,” and I ran out of Nan’s house to check without a thought to my safety.

  “You be careful, Sophie,” she shouted from behind me. It was to no avail. The car had gone and on that occasion, I chose not to inform the police. I couldn’t even have described what the two men were wearing. I could only say they were ugly, and the car was a red one. I didn’t think that was enough for the police to go on so rather than be a waste of time, I decided to leave it. I needed to learn to pay more attention and trust my instincts more.

  Chapter Four

  LAST WEEK

  I went online and flicked through my emails. I was inundated with offers from companies trying desperately to sell me something else that I didn’t need or want. Systematically going through them, I pressed the delete button almost on automatic pilot. Having gone into my account, I noticed there were over a hundred emails. I never get more than ten a day and it hadn’t been that long since I checked my inbox.

  Puzzled, I began to open them up to investigate and found out why. About ninety percent of the correspondence was from the internet dating site. Gosh, did I feel popular if this was the response I’d had. They were telling me I had been winked at, added as favourites or had messages left. This got me interested. I was buzzing. Maybe there was hope for me meeting someone after all. I sat down with a hot drink, thinking I was going to be in for a pleasant evening replying to my fan mail.

  My initial enthusiasm was dampened somewhat when I began to work through all the mail I’d received. When I clicked on the accompanying photo shots (thank goodness they were there) I found that most of them made Quasimodo look handsome. They looked more like a police line-up than potential suitors. I began to get despondent as I opened each one. A dark cloud descended on my mood as I deleted message after message without replying. Gone went the semi-naked posers. It didn’t take much imagination to realise what they were after and also out went all the ‘hi babes’. I thought, if that’s the sum total of their vocabulary, then they’re not for me. After about an hour of clearing out the no-hopers, I became disheartened. There wasn’t a lot left.

  I’d got rid of the vast majority of the content, robotically pressing delete. So much so that I nearly wiped out Ben, who actually looked quite nice. Ben was a thirty-year-old project manager from Wigan who liked sports, was outdoorsy and had been divorced for five years. He looked and sounded normal, which was a welcome change from most of the other strange bunch. I decided to reply to him. I asked him how his weekend had been and told him a little about me. He replied straightaway, which excited me. We entered into a conversation, going backwards and forwards chatting online over the next couple of hours. He seemed ok, and he was interested in me. There was no indication of any sexual innuendos and by the end of the evening, I agreed to meet up with him for coffee.

  We met at a cafe close to the Reebok Stadium in Bolton. I knew the area well. It was about half way between both of us. It was a bustling retail park, and I felt safe there as I knew there’d be lots of people around. I walked into Luciano’s in Middlebrook. It was busy, but I recognised Ben from his photo straight away, tall with blond hair and blue eyes. That was a good start, having a close resemblance to his picture. I even had to admit that he was good looking, and I was pleasantly surprised. So far, so good.

  He sat near the door looking over at me with anticipation. I waved across at him. He didn’t get up but said hello softly and smiled when I walked over and I pulled up a chair to join him. I took off my coat, putting it on the back of the seat. Having looked at the menu, I made my mind up to have a bite to eat as well as coffee and Ben said he would too. I noticed he kept straightening his knife and fork. I thought maybe he was nervous like me. He then started to line up other things on the table like the salt and pepper and a vase containing a single flower. I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen this as I didn’t want to embarrass him. We’d just ordered our food when he reached down into his pocket and pulled out a notepad. He then began to ask me questions.

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking you a few things, Sophie.” He smiled over at me.

  “No, not at all,” I said with a tight-lipped smile. An interrogation then followed that made the whole scenario more like a job interview.

  “Do you believe in smacking children?”

  Frowning, I said, “Well, I haven’t given it much thought, not having any children of my own but I’d have to answer no to that one.” I crossed and uncrossed my legs. He made a few notes.

  “How much time do you spend on your hobbies?”

  “Not a lot. I like to run and I go to the gym but that’s about it.” He made some more notes.

  “Do you always pay your way when you’re on a date?” I was frowning deeply now, but he hadn’t noticed.

  “Er, yes.”

  “How would you handle it if someone was unfaithful to you?” With a deadly serious expression, Ben looked across at me.

  Still frowning and getting
angrier by the minute, I said, “Well, I’d end the relationship of course.”

  “How would you deal with your partner going on holiday without you?” He didn’t smile. The anger welled up inside me and I felt cross with myself for continuing this charade.

  “It would depend.” I didn’t know why I was still amusing him. I twisted my mouth.

  “Look, Ben, have you had a bad experience that’s prompted you to ask all these questions?” Ben didn’t reply, he continued writing up his notes.

  “Can I ask you what you’ve written?” I asked. Ben put his pen down slowly, moving it next to his knife.

  Still, with a serious expression, he said, “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  Crossing my arms, I said, “I see.” I could sense my neck tingling with the change in shade my skin had gone. I was fuming and getting ready to walk out.

  “Tell me, Ben, how long have you been on the site looking for a partner?” Any hint of a smile had disappeared from my face.

  “Just over three years.”

  “And you haven’t found anyone yet?” I enquired, trying to make a point.

  “No, not yet.” He looked miserable.

  “And have you ever wondered why?”

  “Er well, no one’s been suitable.” Ben frowned.

  “Ben, I wish you luck with your continued search but I’m going to leave you to it. I’m afraid I don’t think I’d be suitable, either.” I got up to go, putting my coat back on.

  “Oh, oh, you’re going?”

  Ben looked shocked. “What about the food you’ve ordered?”

  “You can have it. I don’t feel hungry anymore.”

  Reaching into my purse, I pulled out a crisp ten-pound note and left it on the table. I walked out shaking my head. He seemed oblivious to my discontent.

  Unbelievably, when I went onto the website later, there was a message from Ben. It said he was sorry I’d had to leave but did I want to meet up again. Hopefully, I let him down gently with my reply. It made me realise though this wasn’t going to be as easy as it looked. I did think I would try one more time.

  The second date I went on was with Frank from Accrington. He was chatty and liked talking about himself.

  “I work for National Rail,” he said.

  “Oh, that’s a coincidence. So does my dad.”

  “I work mainly at Accrington station. Sometimes, we have to go over to Blackburn and occasionally Bolton.”

  “My dad’s based in Manchester,” I butted in.

  “Oh, I don’t know anyone who works over that way.”

  “So, what do you do in your spare time, Frank?” I asked.

  “I like to go to ceroc classes every week. How about you Sophie?” I didn’t know what ceroc was I didn’t have the heart to ask him.

  “I like to run and go to the gym.”

  “Oh, that’s good. So you’re fit then?” he asked

  “Well, I do enjoy exercise and I particularly like being outdoors.”

  “Yeah, I work mainly outside so I like to exercise inside. Know what I mean.” I knew he was flirting with me but I didn’t want to sound too forward.

  When I didn’t respond, he continued, “I also do lindy hop and swing dancing. I’m a big fan. Do you fancy coming along and having a go?”

  He convinced me I would have a ball. It did seem like it might be fun and I was prepared to try anything once.

  The night we arranged to go to the dancing, he wanted to come to my home to pick me up. I said no, so he agreed to meet me in the centre of Bury and drive me to the class. He picked me up in a rusty old blue van although he himself looked presentable and he wore a rather nice aftershave. He had dark hair and eyes. His expression looked moody. His hair was cut in a short back and sides style with the top slicked back, very fifties. I wondered if he had spent any time in the Forces but didn’t want to ask for fear of getting a detailed run down.

  The first experience I’d had meant I was more wary, so I kept any talk about my life to a minimum. Frank didn’t seem to notice.

  “So, have you had a good day, babe?”

  Frank smiled over at me as I settled into the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt. He didn’t wait for an answer and instead promptly began talking about his day and how his boss was giving him a hard time. He talked incessantly about himself. On the way to the venue, he told me he was both a rugby and a speedway fan. Unfortunately, I knew nothing about either but listened to his stories, trying to stop myself from yawning.

  When we got out of his vehicle, I had come to the conclusion he wasn’t interested in finding anything out about me. I didn’t think things had got off to a good start, but I hoped the evening would improve with the dancing. We entered the hall, and I was hit by the smell, a cocktail of mothballs and beer. The dismal decor in varying shades of brown did nothing to whet my appetite. Together with the classic sticky carpet that had seen better decades, it made me question my decision to attend.

  If I hadn’t been so self-conscious then I might have enjoyed myself more, but I wasn’t very good at the dancing. The other people there seemed to be regulars, and they were having fun but I couldn’t remember the moves. I kept using the wrong foot which caused me to feel all the more nervous. Frank was a good dancer and I could see he was having a great time. He exchanged knowing nods with most of the other dancers. I’d have been happier sitting on the sides watching but he insisted I get up and have another go.

  “Come on Sophie, you’ll enjoy this one. Just do what I do.”

  Putting my hands over my ears, laughing, I said, “No.”

  “Come on Sophie. You can do it.”

  Reluctantly, I tried again. As the night progressed, I was also conscious of the fact he’d already had three pints of beer. The worry was, he intended to take me back to the centre of Bury at the end of the evening.

  “Listen, Frank, I’ll get a taxi home. You’re obviously enjoying your drink.” He noticed my worried expression.

  “No, no, no. I’ll have none of it. You’re my guest. I’ll go and get myself a coke. Do you want anything? Any peanuts or pork scratchings?”

  I shook my head. By now, I felt miserable, longing to get back to my own familiar surroundings. I’d been ready to go for at least an hour and was being too polite. The dancing ended but Frank had been happily chatting with a few of his friends, leaving me sitting alone.

  He didn’t seem to notice my discomfort, so I looked at my watch, walked over to him and said, “Frank, I need to be going. I have to be up early in the morning for work.”

  “You want to leave so soon? The night’s still young. Don’t you fancy going on to a club?” He didn’t look too pleased with me.

  “No Frank, I really need to get home.”

  “Give me a minute, then.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get a taxi.”

  “No, no guest of mine is getting a taxi. I’ll be with you in a second.” I began to feel uncomfortable about him taking me back. He wanted to drive me all the way home. I told him he could drop me off in Bury as that was where I’d left my car.

  His mood changed in the van going back. Because I hadn’t been drinking, the stench of alcohol in those confined quarters made me feel sick. His voice got louder and more aggressive.

  Watching the road ahead, he coughed then nonchalantly said, “So what’s your favourite sex position then, ay Sophie?” He glanced over at me then took his hand off the steering wheel and put it on my knee.

  Grabbing his hand, I moved it away.

  “None of your business,” I replied curtly.

  “Oh don’t be like that. Come on, tell your uncle Frank how you like it.”

  He laughed, but I was not amused. His questioning in the same vein continued, and I got more concerned by the minute, wishing I’d got a taxi home. He also seemed to be slurring his words, and I didn’t think he should be behind the wheel of the car. I felt worried about his behaviour when next thing I knew, he swerved off Manchester Road and
drove down a dirt track.

  “Hey, where are we going?” I asked.

  He smiled and said, “It’s a surprise.”

  Bringing the car to a halt, he went to put his arms around me. My eyes widened, and I shrunk back.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Come on Sophie. This is what you want isn’t it?”

  He thrust his body towards me and I tried to push him away but his hands came back more forcefully groping me. He pushed himself over to my side of the van and the weight of his body against mine made me catch my breath. I also noticed he locked my side of the door. I began to panic. He pounced on me and kissed my neck. I flinched.

  “Do you want it here or back at your place or both?” he laughed. His hands were all over my body.

  My heart was pounding fast. I felt nauseous and held my breath to stop from gagging at the stench of the stale beer. I tried again to push him away. I had to think quickly.

  “I tell you what Frank; let’s get in the back of the van.” He looked at me surprised.

  “Are you sure?” he laughed and seemed pleased I had changed my mind.

  “Yeah, come on.” I scratched my nose and couldn’t look him in the eye for fear of giving the game away. I nuzzled his ear whilst squirming in my seat.

  “Open the door Frank and we can get in the back where there’s more room.”

  He still looked as though he didn’t believe me but then glanced in the back of the van. Next thing, I heard the clunk of the door unlocking. I breathed a sigh of relief. I opened the passenger side. I intended to make a run for it but he was too quick for me. He had already rushed round to my side by the time I got out. He was definitely swaying though and was unsteady on his feet. The drink was having an effect on him. He lunged forward, grabbing my arm. He tried to pull off my coat. I was shaking.

  “Wait, wait, Frank,” I cried.

  He turned to face me and went to kiss me and with a swift movement, I kicked him as hard as I could in the groin. He went down like a sack of potatoes, clutching between his legs. He groaned, and I kicked him again for good measure then took my cue and ran as fast as I could. Thankfully, he didn’t follow me. I could hear him swearing and shouting abuse long into the distance as I ran. Once I realised I was safely away from him, I slowed down and still trembling, I managed to flag down a taxi and I made my way home.