Emma Holden Mystery 03-The One You Fear

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘It’s only what you did last time,’ Lizzy replied. ‘Except that this time, you’d be doing it for the right reasons.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting,’ he said, after a few seconds, ‘that I wasn’t very good at it. You found me out, remember?’

  ‘Only after a while,’ Emma replied. ‘By then, you’d already been following me for days, hadn’t you? And you’d already got lots of photographs.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Whereas this time you would only need to do it for a few days, maybe just two or three – long enough to be sure whether someone is following me. And if you get photographs, we could give them to the police and maybe they could then take action.’

  ‘Taking police matters into your own hands. It sounds dangerous.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be,’ Lizzy said. ‘If there is someone following Emma, we don’t want you to engage with them in any way. And we don’t want you to follow them – only Emma. We don’t want anyone put in danger, including you.’

  ‘Work’s getting busy again,’ said Sherborn. ‘I’ve been trying to put all this behind me, and I’ve got a queue of clients for family portraits. The second half of this week I’m pretty full with bookings.’

  Clearly, he was leading up to a ‘no’. But Lizzy wasn’t giving in just yet. ‘What about the first half of the week?’

  ‘Quieter,’ he replied, with a slight hesitation. ‘I’ve got some night-time shoots, but during the day today through till Wednesday, it’s clear at the moment.’

  ‘That’s all we’d need,’ Lizzy said. ‘These three days. See if you can see anybody, hang back as far as you can with one of your telescopic lenses, shoot some pictures, then we can meet up later on Wednesday afternoon and see what you’ve got.’

  ‘Please,’ urged Emma. ‘I’d be really grateful.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said finally. ‘I’ll do it. And I don’t want any money for it.’ He seemed to relax now the decision had been made. ‘So how is this going to work? You want me to follow you around the whole time?’

  Emma glanced at Lizzy, who was trying to hide her delight. ‘As much as you can. But I’ll text you regularly to let you know where I am.’

  He nodded. ‘I am glad to be able to help, you know. I still feel like I owe you.’

  ***

  ‘Do you think he’s watching us now?’ Lizzy said, as they sat in the deli cafe, snacking on baguettes.

  Emma resisted the temptation to look around. ‘Who? David Sherborn or the Stephen Myers impostor?’

  ‘I was thinking more of the Stephen Myers impostor.’

  Now Emma did look up. ‘I hope not.’ Scanning around as discreetly as she could, she looked at the other customers: a young mother sitting in the far corner, spooning food into her baby’s open mouth, a couple of businessmen eating alone, two young friends who looked like they might be students, and a middle-aged woman who was reading a novel.

  ‘You seem to be handling this really well,’ Lizzy said. ‘I mean, after all that you’ve already gone through, now to have this to deal with – it would be totally understandable if you felt it was all too much.’

  Emma took a bite from her tuna baguette. ‘I’m actually surprised myself. I can’t explain why I feel calmer about it all, but I just do. Maybe it’s because I know that the real danger, the person who nearly killed Richard and took Dan and you, is safely locked away.’

  ‘But somebody is out there, pretending to be Stephen Myers. That must worry you.’

  ‘It does. But I know I’ve got all of you with me. Dan’s here now, you’re here, and Will. Knowing you’re all with me gives me strength and makes me feel safe. Plus, whoever this person is, they want me to be scared, and I guess I don’t want to give them what they’re after.’

  ‘You’re stronger than people think,’ Lizzy said. ‘Quietly strong.’

  Emma smiled. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’m really sorry. For not telling you about what Peter Myers said to me. I was just so torn.’

  ‘It’s okay, honestly. I know you did it for the right reasons. We can’t let him get to us.’

  ‘It seems like he’s using Adrian Spencer to do that – using him as a mouthpiece.’

  Emma nodded. ‘I wish that guy would just disappear. To be honest, I don’t care anymore if he writes his story or not. I just want him to leave us alone.’

  ‘Agreed.’ Lizzy glanced at her watch. ‘Oh, hell, I’m late for the matinee. Sorry, Em, I’m going to have to dash.’

  ‘It’s okay, you go. Don’t give that director any more ammunition.’

  ‘You’ll go straight home, won’t you?’ Lizzy grabbed her half-eaten lunch and got to her feet. ‘I don’t like the idea of you walking around on your own, not at the moment.’

  ‘I’ll go straight back,’ Emma replied. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll finish this first though.’

  Emma watched as Lizzy exited the café and hurried off down the street. She glanced around again at the other customers. They were all busy with their own business – talking between themselves or on their mobile phones, browsing the internet, or simply enjoying the food and drink. No one seemed interested in her. But still, now Lizzy was gone, she felt exposed.

  She’d just returned to her lunch when her phone rang. It wasn’t a number she recognised.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Is that Emma? Emma Holden?’

  ‘Yes, it’s Emma.’ The voice on the other end of the line was instantly recognisable, even though it had been years. ‘Charlotte, is that you?’

  ‘Yes, yes it is.’

  Emma couldn’t believe it: Charlotte Harris, Stuart’s sister.

  ‘I wondered if it would be possible to meet up, this afternoon if you can. I should have called you before now. It’s really very important.’

  9

  Taking heed of Lizzy’s warning not to go off anywhere on her own, Emma offered to meet with Charlotte in the café. By the time she’d finished her lunch and was drinking a newly ordered tea, Charlotte had arrived.

  ‘Emma,’ she said, unsmiling. ‘Long time no see.’

  Emma stood up and the two kissed a hello. Charlotte had a cropped brown bob, which framed her pretty face. It replaced the long hairstyle that Emma remembered, and it suited her. But it felt awkward, being face to face again with Stuart’s little sister. It had been years since Emma had last seen her – the day before Stuart had walked out on her, in fact. A group of them had all gone for a picnic in Hyde Park, and everything had seemed perfect – better than they’d been for a while. There had been no warning signs, although now Emma knew that Stuart had been carrying a shockingly dark secret around with him for some time before then: a secret that was to be the end for them as a couple.

  Stuart had killed Stephen Myers.

  As was understandable, the end of her and Stuart’s relationship also meant the end of Emma’s friendship with Charlotte. They’d actually been quite close. On a number of occasions, Charlotte had travelled down from the North and stayed over at their London flat, and Emma and Stuart had shown her the sights. She was a nice girl, five years younger than Emma, and she felt like the little sister Emma had never had. Over the years, Emma had wondered what had become of her. And now here she was.

  Emma ordered her a drink from the waitress. ‘You’ve really grown up,’ she said to Charlotte.

  Charlotte blushed slightly. ‘Yes, I’m not a naïve little girl anymore, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound patronising.’

  ‘It’s okay, it didn’t.’ Her coffee arrived and she spooned in a surprisingly large amount of sugar before taking a sip.

  Emma took a proper look at her. She had aged quite significantly in the intervening years. In fact, she looked significantly older than mid-twenties. Her skin looked as if she might be a smoker, and her eyes were tired. How much of that aging had taken place in the weeks since Stuart’s death? ‘It’s good to see you again.’

  ‘And you. Although I thought we might have seen
you at Stuart’s funeral.’

  Emma was afraid she would mention that. ‘I felt it would be better if I stayed away.’ It had been a big surprise to receive the invite, but she really hadn’t felt able to go. It didn’t seem right. She’d decided it would be better for everyone, not only herself, but also Dan, and Stuart’s family for that matter, if she stayed away. So instead she’d sent a condolence card and given her apologies.

  ‘Well, I would have liked to have seen you,’ Charlotte replied.

  ‘I...’ Emma hesitated.

  ‘I really missed you, you know, after you split with Stuart.’

  ‘I missed you too.’

  Charlotte seemed surprised. ‘Did you?’

  ‘Of course I did.’

  ‘You could have got in touch, you know. I mean, I know that Stuart broke up with you, but it didn’t mean you had to just… abandon me.’

  ‘I’m really sorry, Charlotte, I never knew you felt like that.’

  ‘No, how could you?’

  ‘I wish it had been that easy to stay in touch,’ Emma said, ‘but it wasn’t. Stuart broke off all links with me, and I certainly don’t think he would have wanted me to have any contact with you.’

  Charlotte shrugged. ‘Well, anyway, it doesn’t matter now. That was a long time ago.’

  ‘I am sorry about what happened to Stuart. I loved your brother, and I never wanted to see him hurt.’

  Charlotte smiled disbelievingly. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’

  ‘Then why did you lead him on?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Why did you lead him on the way you did? Make him feel like he had a chance with you again?’

  Is this why she wanted to meet, to voice her anger at what had happened to Stuart, and to assign blame? ‘I… I didn’t lead him on.’

  ‘You did! He spoke to me, after the date you had on the river boat down the Thames. He was so happy, he truly believed there was a chance you two could get back together.’

  Emma shook her head – Charlotte had this all wrong, possibly blinded by family loyalty, or maybe misled by Stuart himself. ‘That wasn’t a date, Charlotte. It was an event promoting a film. I didn’t even know Stuart was going to be there.’

  Charlotte sidestepped this explanation. ‘Are you saying you didn’t have a good time with my brother that night?’

  ‘I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying that it wasn’t planned, and it certainly wasn’t a date. And I also didn’t do anything to lead your brother on.’

  ‘That’s not how he saw it.’

  Emma tried again. This was going badly wrong. ‘Charlotte, I know how awful these past few weeks must have been for you. What happened was such a terrible shock – for me, too.’

  ‘Now you are patronising me,’ she shot back. But it proved to be her final offensive manoeuvre, and her face softened with sadness. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to lose your big brother – the only person who you could totally depend on. I know he made a big mistake, more than one in fact, but he was a good person, Emma, he was a good, kind person.’

  ‘I know he was.’ Emma reached across the table and took her hand.

  Charlotte looked up tearfully. ‘He told me once how much he regretted losing you. He said he’d do anything to turn back the clock and be with you again. That’s why he was so happy, when he thought there might be a chance.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Charlotte, but there was never a chance. I love Dan.’

  ‘I know. I just wish he hadn’t met you again. He’d moved on with things. He was happy with his girlfriend, and things were going well.’

  ‘I wish he could have moved on too. I honestly do.’

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ Charlotte said. ‘But the reason why I wanted to see you was to give you this.’ She handed over a brown envelope, with Emma’s name scrawled on the front. It looked like Stuart’s handwriting.

  ‘Two days after Stuart died, I received a parcel from him,’ Charlotte explained. ‘He’d written letters to me, my mum and dad, his girlfriend Sally, and you.’

  Emma looked at it, then up at Charlotte.

  ‘You don’t have to open it now,’ said Charlotte. ‘Do it in your own time. I’m sorry, I should have given this to you before now, but I was angry.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll be going now. Would you like me to pay for my drink?’

  ‘It’s okay, I’ll get it.’

  Emma watched as she left the café. The letter felt like a ton weight in her hands.

  Should she open it?

  She decided not to, for now. It wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to look at in public. She wasn’t sure she wanted to look at it at all, but the right place was certainly not here. So she slipped it into her bag and went to the counter to pay.

  ‘That’s fine,’ the girl said, as Emma presented her debit card. ‘You don’t have anything more to pay.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your friend covered the tab. Paid cash for the lot.’

  ‘Friend?’

  ‘Yes, the man who left a few minutes ago. He paid for everything.’

  ‘He must have made a mistake. He wasn’t with us.’

  ‘I know,’ the girl said, ‘he was sitting by the window on his own, but he definitely meant to pay for your order. He pointed you out specifically.’

  ‘I don’t understand, I really don’t know what’s going on, why would somebody do that?’

  She smiled. ‘I wouldn’t argue with a free lunch. Looks like you’ve got yourself a fan.’

  ***

  Miranda returned from the hospital just after six o’clock. It had been a tiring day at work. The pregnancy was really taking its toll, sapping her energy levels to the extent that, for most of the day, she had just wanted to curl up in a corner and sleep. But her schedule afforded no time for rest: as a doctor, the needs of the patients came before your own. Now, however, she desperately wanted to relax – maybe run herself a hot bath, light some candles, and soak for an hour or so. Well, she might as well take such moments before things like that became too difficult. She couldn’t imagine many candlelit baths after the baby arrived.

  She entered the house and listened for signs of life. Edward had gone out earlier to meet with a client, but he’d promised to be back by five in time to start the evening meal off. ‘Edward, are you home?’

  No answer.

  She entered the living room. All was quiet. And no sign of him in the kitchen, either. The meeting must have run late. But when she got to the bedroom, she saw the one-line note, lying on top of the covers.

  Sorry, I’ve betrayed you all. Again. This is for the best. Goodbye.

  ‘No, you can’t have...’

  But a few seconds later, her fears were confirmed. A check of the wardrobe revealed that his overnight bag had gone.

  ***

  ‘Are you okay? Want to talk?’

  ‘I can’t believe he’d do this,’ Emma said, ‘to Miranda or to me. Just walk away without explanation. He’s so selfish.’

  Dan sat down on the bed and put his arms around her. It was eleven o’clock on Monday evening – some hours after Miranda had called to tell them the news about her father. She’d rung primarily to check that he hadn’t gone around to their flat, more out of hope than expectation. He wasn’t answering his mobile phone and she was beside herself with worry.

  ‘You know,’ Emma said, ‘I thought he’d learnt his lesson after what happened. But he hasn’t changed. He hasn’t changed at all.’

  ‘He’s under a lot of pressure,’ Dan said. ‘It’s not an excuse for running off, but maybe he just had to get away for a bit – like we tried to do by going to Cornwall.’

  Emma shook her head. ‘The trouble with my dad is that he won’t talk to anyone. He doesn’t even let his closest family get close enough to understand how he is feeling. He wasn’t always like that. Before Mum got sick, he wasn’t like that at all. He was open, caring. He was never the same after she died. The dad I used to know would never
have done the kind of things he’s done in the past few weeks.’

  ‘Have you tried his phone again?’

  ‘Still switched off.’

  ‘Maybe you’ll have better luck in the morning. He’s probably checked into a hotel. Give him a night to think things over and he’ll probably be in touch tomorrow.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Emma replied, not particularly believing it. It was equally possible that her father intended the break to be permanent. He could be on the road, getting as far away from them all as possible, driving without any particular destination in mind.

  She had an unsettling feeling that she had seen the last of him.

  10

  ‘Impressed?’ Lizzy arrived at the flat right on time. It was early Wednesday morning, just before nine, the day Emma had arranged to meet the agent, Diana Saunders. It was also Dan’s first day back in the office, and there was an important team meeting about a new multinational client, so Lizzy had offered to accompany Emma. After what had happened at the deli café, where someone had obviously been watching her, they all thought it increasingly important that Emma shouldn’t be alone.

  ‘Come in,’ Emma said. ‘Dan’s just left.’

  As Emma boiled the kettle, Lizzy jumped right in. ‘Have you told him about the letter?’

  Emma dropped a tea bag into the pot. ‘No, not yet.’ She wasn’t certain that she was ever going to tell Dan about the letter from Stuart Harris. ‘I’m still not sure that I’m actually going to read it.’ Since Monday, the letter had remained buried in the bottom of her sock drawer.

  Lizzy let the topic drop. ‘Did you have a nice day yesterday?’

  ‘Pretty good, under the circumstances.’ Dan had suggested a day out in Windsor. The forecast had been good, and it was their last day on holiday, so they’d taken the train and spent the day touring the sights, including the castle and Eton College. She hadn’t been there since she was a little child, and although she didn’t tell Dan, the place really reminded her of her parents – which, with her father still missing, wasn’t necessarily a good thing. But still, they had enjoyed the day, and in places, it was a great distraction from other concerns.