I Know Your Every Move

by Diane Ezzard

  “I’m sorry Sophie. I thought it was what we both wanted. I couldn’t live with what I’d done any more than you could but I’ve thought about you all the time.” He took hold of my hand across the table, clasping it in his. My feelings were out of control and my head tried to remain calm. My eyes looked sad, and I removed my hand from his and picked up my mug of coffee. The moment had gone and Simon’s sentimental side disappeared.

  In his caring work voice, he said, “Seriously Sophie, if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

  “Thanks, Simon, I promise I will.” I hoped he believed me but I still felt uncomfortable. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I did what I always do when I’m nervous and started picking at my fingers and twisting my hair.

  “Simon,” I said taking a deep swallow.

  He looked up at me. In a low voice, I said, “I hear Colin Scanlon’s been arrested. Are you worried about it?”

  “Of course I am.” His expression looked cross. I realised it was a stupid question.

  “Look the money wasn’t where it was supposed to be. There was only so much I could do to help him. Hopefully, I’ve covered my tracks. I do wonder how the DTI found out about him.” He watched my reaction closely.

  “I suppose someone must have got suspicious. If you’re worried about me, I have never told a soul anything.” I felt nervous.

  “Even though I didn’t know what went on anyway,” I added. I fidgeted in my seat.

  “It’s okay, Sophie. I know you’re not a vindictive person,” he replied.

  Eager to change the subject, I asked, “So, how are you?” He looked at me with a frown on his face.

  “Did you not hear about us?”

  “Hear what Simon?”

  “Linda and I have been going through a difficult time since we lost the baby.” That news hit me like a cannon in my stomach. Hearing that made me feel dizzy, but I had to keep my composure.

  “I’m sorry, no I didn’t know.” I had heard enough, and I didn’t want to listen to anymore so as soon as I’d finished my drink, I made my excuses to leave. It shouldn’t have bothered me, knowing that Simon was sleeping with his wife, but it did.

  I got home that evening and Max slinked around my ankles. A gentle purring sound filled the air. Even though he was a long way off getting better, I was so pleased to have him back. The vet’s bills were frightening but I couldn’t have imagined what life would have been like without Max so was glad to have him home. Stroking him, I suddenly remembered Linda’s counselling notes. I’d had so many other things on my mind, I’d completely forgotten about them. I made myself a mug of tea and sat to read the paperwork. I sighed. Max came hobbling towards me and I stroked him affectionately before taking the papers out of my bag. I started reading through.

  This client is difficult to engage with. There is something she is holding back, making it hard to work with her. We have explored her fears and vulnerabilities which are mainly centred around her marriage. She admitted she has been lying to her husband but didn’t furnish the details. She has her guard up all the time and seems to think hard about what she is saying, so much so it doesn’t appear natural. She said she worries constantly about splitting up from her husband. She admitted to not being able to trust him. She suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder and throughout the session had difficulty sitting still. There was little eye contact with her. She said she has obsessional thoughts but again would not expand on that. She did talk about being angry since the death of her stillborn child some months ago. She kept saying others needed to be punished. She was nervous for most of the session. Her speech was rapid and constant. She seemed to find it difficult to focus, and she switched from one subject to another. She lost her train of thought on several occasions so abruptly stopped the conversation and silences followed. She expressed an interest in the other counsellors who work here. I wasn’t sure what she was asking for. I believe this client needs more specialised help outside the remit of our work at the centre. I intend to refer this client on for further psychological assessment.

  I sat for a moment, taking in what I had read. There was something not right here. Did Linda know about me and Simon? Certainly, if she knew about us, she had a motive Also, I made assumptions it was a man after me but could it be a woman? Could it be possible she rode Simon’s motorbike? Maybe I hadn’t had as open a mind about this as I should have. No, it was ludicrous to think it was Linda. She’d just got over a pregnancy. I became convinced it couldn’t be her.

  Just then the doorbell rang, and I wondered who it could be. I opened the door and my eyes were drawn to a huge bunch of flowers. Oh, how nice, I thought, and I was excited hoping they might be from Simon. The messenger carrying them wore a dark hoodie and a grey scarf over the bottom half of their face. I had a moment of recognition from a previous time. Then I saw the eyes, and a chill crept down my spine.

  “You’d better come in, Linda.” Linda’s eyes looked wild and in shock. I took the flowers from her and turned to walk down the hall expecting her to follow me. Next thing, I felt a thump in my back which jolted me forwards. I panicked when I realised she was attacking me so turned round and felt another blow to my upper arm then Linda fled the scene. My first thoughts were she had hit me and I was shaken up but I looked down and saw a knife on the floor. I was staring at the knife when droplets of blood began to cover it. I looked at my arm and saw the blood oozing out. I felt dizzy.

  Where was my phone? I panicked. I dashed into the kitchen. My breathing became erratic. I searched around the kitchen trying to find my phone. I needed to dial for an ambulance. My mind whirred. I couldn’t think straight. My vision became fuzzy. I didn’t know what to do. Where had I left the phone? I needed help fast, so I ran out into the middle of the road and flagged down a car. Luckily, the first car that came along, pulled over. An elderly couple were sat in the front and the lady in the passenger seat wound her window down.

  “I’m sorry. I need help. I’ve been stabbed.” I cried. They looked at each other, then the man got out of the driver’s seat and came and helped me get into the back of his car.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll drive you to the hospital. It’s only ten minutes away. We’ll be quicker than an ambulance.” By now I was drifting in and out of consciousness.

  Chapter Thirty

  NOW

  I came round in casualty. I’d been rushed in as a priority case and it wasn’t long before I was being stitched up. My arm looked a real mess. The whole length of it had turned black because the cut was so deep. It was painful, and I wasn’t able to move it. Thankfully, the wound on my back was more superficial. Because I managed to walk away at the time, the knife hadn’t penetrated as deeply. I’d had a lucky escape. The police came to interview me and I told them exactly what happened.

  The nurse brought me a cup of tea and I lay deep in thought. I couldn’t believe Linda was at the bottom of what had been going on but everything made sense now. She must have known about me and Simon all along. Seeing us both in the coffee shop a few months back, she probably put two and two together and made five, presuming we were still an item. It frightened me to think how close she came to killing me. An inch to the right and the knife would have gone through my heart. I shuddered. I didn’t want to think about it.

  I was kept in hospital that night and the following day it was on the news Charlie had been arrested. I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. If nothing else, it would mean justice for Cassie. I also received a visit from Joyce.

  “I thought I’d let you know Kyle’s in hospital and apparently he’s been in two months. He’s in the Irwell unit.

  I knew that was the mental health unit.

  “What happened, Joyce?”

  “By the sound of things he lost it completely. I was told he got on a bus and didn’t seem to know where he was or what to do. The bus driver was so concerned, he called an ambulance. When he was admitted, he didn’t know who or where he was or anything. He had no ID on him
and no one reported him missing. That’s why I wasn’t informed. Nobody knew his identity to let me know. It seems he’d had some sort of breakdown.”

  “Oh, how awful for you Joyce,” I empathised.

  “In a way, it’s as well we weren’t speaking because I’d have been worried sick if I’d known he was missing. I’m glad he’s in the best place now. They’ve suggested I don’t go and see him yet until he’s more stable. They’re right, both for his sake and mine, it would be too upsetting.”

  It always amazed me how well Joyce coped in a crisis.

  “Is there anything I can do to help, Joyce?”

  “Don’t worry about me Sophie; you’ve got enough to deal with given what’s been going on with you. I wanted to let you know. Anyway, how are you doing?” Joyce gave me a hug that hurt like hell. I winced.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  I welled up with tears. I felt emotional.

  “I’m okay, Joyce. It’s been a difficult time for me and my arm is painful and I’ve had to make a statement.”

  “You can always come and stay with me for a while when you get out. You need someone to look after you,” she said.

  Joyce was such a caring soul, and I told her I appreciated the offer and I would consider it.

  Later that day, Simon came to see me in hospital, this time with a bunch of flowers that were genuinely for me. He told me Linda had been arrested, and she admitted to everything. She had been remanded for sentencing and further reports.

  “I’ve spoken to her and her psychiatrist about everything. Apparently, she did know about our affair but kept it bottled up. Then when she saw me talking to you in Costa, she believed we were still seeing each other. I think losing the baby has tipped her over the edge. She never challenged me about anything though and she became obsessed with you. She’s been following you around for ages getting more and more bitter and angry. I’m so sorry, Sophie.” He took hold of my hand.

  “It’s okay, Simon. It’s not your fault.”

  Whilst he was there, the doctor came doing his rounds. He told me I was free to go home. He said my arm would take a couple of months to heal properly but the emotional wounds would take longer.

  Simon offered to take me home, so I agreed to let him. We pulled up outside my front door and he shut the car engine down.

  We both sat for a few moments then he said, “I knew she was unstable Sophie but I never felt able to talk to anyone about it. I promise you I never thought she’d do anything like this. I’m really sorry.”

  “I know you are, Simon.” I gazed through the windscreen at the road ahead, deep in thought.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “So she knew about us all along.”

  “I can’t believe she never said anything, never challenged me,” he said.

  “She obviously loved you and blamed me for everything. She must have been in a really bad place to keep it in like she did.”

  Simon looked at me and said, “I can tell you’re a counsellor now Sophie, you’re too forgiving.”

  I replied, “She made my life difficult that’s for sure but I made her life hell, too.”

  Simon glanced over then put his arm around me. He moved towards me as if going to kiss me but I quickly jerked away.

  “What’s wrong, Sophie?” he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

  “Thank you for the lift home and the flowers Simon but I’m going in now to have a nice bath.”

  He looked shocked.

  “Aren’t you inviting me in?”

  I thought for a few seconds. Emotionally, I was tempted but then a sharp pain in my arm brought me back to my senses. I had a new life I’d been building up with good friends who I knew would look after me and help get me through this.

  “No, Simon” I smiled across at him, “I’m afraid that ship has sailed.” I got out of the car, holding on to the flowers, just managing to shut the car door. I walked up the path and watched until he drove off then turned the key in the lock and walked inside.

  REVIEWS

  As a new author, it is very difficult to promote my book without reviews. If you have enjoyed reading it, I would be very grateful if you would spend a few minutes leaving a review on the book’s Amazon page. The links are:-

  https://www.amazon.co.uk for the UK

  https://www.amazon.com for the USA

  DID YOU ENJOY I KNOW YOUR EVERY MOVE?

  WOULD YOU LIKE A FREE COPY OF THE SEQUEL?

  Also, just a reminder if you would like to sign up for my newsletter and receive a free copy of the sequel AS SICK AS OUR SECRETS then the link to my website to sign up is here.

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  Further resources

  Statistics on Domestic abuse:

  Will affect 1 in 4 women and 1 in 6 men in their lifetime (Crime Survey of England and Wales 2013/14)

  Leads to, on average to 2 women being murdered each week and 30 men per year (Office of National Statistics, 2015)

  Accounts for 16% of all violent crime, however, it is still the violent crime least likely to be reported to the police (Source: Crime in England and Wales 04/05 report)

  Has more repeat victims than any other crime. On average there will have been 35 assaults before a victim calls the police (Jaffe, 1982)

  Is the single most quoted reason for becoming homeless (Shelter, 2002)

  In addition, approximately 400 people commit suicide each year who have attended hospital for domestic abuse injuries in the previous six months, 200 of these attend hospital on the day they go on to commit suicide

  It has been estimated that domestic abuse costs the public £23 billion per annum. This includes the cost to the criminal justice system, to the health service, to social care and to housing. It is widely accepted however that this figure is an under-estimate as there are so many costs that can not be measured.

  The Home Office estimates that each domestic abuse murder costs the country just over £1 million and totals £112 million per annum.

  Help available from LWA- Living With Abuse and Refuge

  www.lwa.org.uk

  www.refuge.org.uk

  About the author

  Diane Ezzard comes from Bury in Manchester. She now lives in South East London close to her daughter and grandchildren. Before taking early retirement to concentrate on her writing, she worked as an HR manager, a counsellor, owned a cafe and had a cleaning business as well as managed a charity.

  I Know Your Every Move is her debut novel.

  www.dezzardwriter.com

  Email: di.ezzard@gmail.com

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to express my gratitude towards Julie Garton and the rest of the gang at Clapham Monday Writers for their encouragement and starting me out on my literary path.

  I would also like to thank Valerie Loh from London School of Journalism for her suggestions, tips and words of wisdom.

  I would also like to give a mention to Kim Dingwall from Selfpubbookcovers.com for her suggested changes.

  Special thanks also go to my lovely daughter Sammi and close friend Donna Purslow for the faith and encouragement they have shown me. My journey thus far has been rich and rewarding filled with everlasting memories both good and bad so I have immense gratitude to anyone who has touched my life and so fired up my imagination and made this book possible.