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Closing In

Page 9

by Sue Fortin


  ‘Sounds good,’ said Donovan. ‘But I’m guessing it didn’t stay like that.’

  ‘No, otherwise I wouldn’t be here, would I?’ Ellen’s retort was rather sharper than she’d intended. She checked herself. ‘Sorry, that was uncalled for.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ He smiled again, probably to reassure her, she thought, but she was grateful all the same. Besides, wasn’t it part of his job to listen and put people at ease; make them tell him everything while his mind whirled away, analysing, labelling, predicting? Noticing his expectant look, Ellen came back to the story.

  ‘Toby likes everything to be just right. He’s a bit of a perfectionist. Doesn’t like any surprises or anything that he’s not in control of. After a couple of months, I realised that the control issue extended to me. It crept up on me slowly. I even found his, shall we say, proprietorial tendencies, quite flattering. I didn’t totally understand him until it was too late. Until he was very much in control, or at least trying to be. One day, I had my hair cut, just a bit shorter and slightly more layered than normal, and he went mad. He didn’t like the fact that I had made a decision on my own. I realised then that I wasn’t even buying clothes without checking with him first. Everything I did rested upon his approval.’

  Ellen stopped and looked down at her glass. Another large gulp. It was practically gone. ‘Isn’t this the bit where you’re supposed to ask me how I felt about that? Or blame it on some childhood issue. Maybe, I was deprived of love by my father and thought that by seeking to please the men in my life I would gain their approval and acceptance.’

  Donovan met her gaze. ‘You’re good. You’ve seen the TV shows.’

  Ellen gave a small laugh. She liked his sense of humour and she liked that he wasn’t patronising her, either. Just for that response, he deserved to hear the rest. ‘Sometimes he would get irritated if I didn’t check with him first on any decision that needed to be taken. He’d suddenly get cross … and … well, he’s always been a bit of a hothead when he gets cross, let’s just say, he got heavy-handed.’

  Ellen was staring back at her glass again. She didn’t notice his hand reach across the table but she felt him push up the sleeve of her jumper. His fingertip carried out a dot-to-dot of her scars. She knew what he was asking. The anger and shame churned in her stomach. Not anger with Donovan for asking, but anger with herself for letting it happen. For not getting out sooner. The shame of admitting to someone else what a coward she was. How humiliated Toby had made her feel. A tear brimmed her eye and slid freely down her cheek.

  Donovan wiped it away with his thumb, the palm of his hand cupping her face. He left it there for a moment and Ellen felt herself leaning into it, drawing strength from him. As she took a deep breath, his hand moved away, but only as far as her own. He took both her hands in his and held them across the table.

  ‘Didn’t anyone say anything? See what he was doing to you?’

  ‘He was very clever. He didn’t do anything that could easily be seen. It was always somewhere that I could cover up. The ribs. The tops of my thighs. My back. Arms.’

  ‘Those marks aren’t just from being heavy-handed.’

  Ellen closed her eyes in an attempt to hold back more tears that were threatening to race each other down her face. It was a few minutes before she could trust herself to speak.

  ‘The family I was working for at the time had gone to a dinner dance and were late back. The husband gave me a lift home. I didn’t think anything of it. It meant I would get back quicker than having to take the bus or try to flag down a taxi. Toby didn’t see it like that. He accused me of having an affair with the dad, or at least encouraging him. He decided I needed a permanent reminder not to flirt in future. My arm made a good ashtray. I’m sure he only took up smoking so he could do this.’ The tears came now. A cloud burst from her eyes, splashing her cheeks, puddling on the table.

  Donovan produced yet another clean tissue from his pocket. ‘I’ll get some more drinks. Don’t go anywhere.’

  Ellen was glad of the few minutes reprieve to regain her compose. She was aware that the bartender had thrown a cautious look over in their direction. No doubt he thought they were having a lovers’ tiff or something. Having a lovers’ tiff … the thought of her and Donovan being lovers made her feel strangely annoyed, yet happy, both at the same time. She shouldn’t be even contemplating getting involved with anyone and, if it was anyone other than Donovan, she felt sure the thought wouldn’t even be on her radar.

  ‘There you go,’ said Donovan, returning with two more drinks and placing them on the table. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll be fine. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get upset, but I haven’t really spoken to anyone about it. I’m not even sure where all that emotion came from.’

  ‘You’ve had one hell of a day,’ said Donovan. ‘It’s no wonder you’re feeling a bit emotional.’ He circled his finger on the table a couple times, before speaking again. ‘What about your family? Have you ever spoken to them about what was going on?’

  Ellen shook her head. ‘I don’t have a great relationship with my dad. We speak occasionally, see each other rarely. Christmas and birthdays, his children’s birthdays that is. I like to give my half-brother and sisters a little gift. My life wasn’t something we talked about in any great depth.’

  ‘Would Toby have tried to contact him to find out where you are?’

  Ellen had already considered this. She shook her head again. ‘No. He has only met my dad twice and then it wasn’t for long. Looking back, I now know that he felt threatened by Dad. He had the potential to be an influence on me. Something out of Toby’s control which he didn’t like.

  ‘What about friends? You must have had some friends. Do they know where you are? Have you kept in touch with any of them?’

  ‘Only Kate knows where I am. I’ve been friends with her for years. She’s stood by me even though she can’t stand Toby. All my other friends drifted away. He made it difficult for them if they came round to see me and even more difficult for me if I saw them.’ She felt so ashamed saying this out loud. ‘I used to meet Kate in secret most of the time.’

  ‘Do you think he may have persuaded Kate to tell him where you are?’

  ‘No. She wouldn’t. Absolutely not.’

  ‘It’s just a thought that’s occurred to me as we’ve been sitting chatting.’ Again, there was the placing of hands over hers. ‘Do you think it’s a plausible idea?’

  The warmth of his hands was reassuring. It felt right. She felt comforted. Ellen searched Donovan’s face, trying to gauge his true feelings. He didn’t look cross with her. And his actions certainly weren’t those of a cross man. Was there pity? She didn’t want that. No, not pity, maybe empathy. Understanding. Compassion, but not pity. ‘A plausible idea? I suppose so. Although I really don’t know how he could have found me. Kate wouldn’t have told him.’

  ‘Through the agency? Could he have got your address from them?’

  ‘No. He doesn’t know I’m working for them.’ Ellen felt a little uneasy. This was where she would have to admit her deceit. ‘When I realised how controlling he was, I knew I had to escape him but I also knew I couldn’t just walk away. He would never have simply let me go. Too much damage to his pride. I planned it months ahead. About a year ago, I told him that I had been offered a new job through another agency. I even went as far as registering with that agency, in case he checked up somehow, but really I stayed with Cherubs. I opened a new bank account without telling him and had my salary paid into that. Then every month I transferred it over to the joint account Toby had insisted we have. I made the payment look like it had come from this other agency so it looked realistic on the bank statements.’

  ‘You went to an awful lot of trouble,’ said Donovan.

  ‘It was the only way. I needed to build up some money in my new account and …’ Ellen paused. Would he understand the next bit? She wasn’t quite sure if she did herself. ‘And, somewhere inside of me, I h
oped that he would change. That things would get better. I was also frightened. Not only of him but of what the future held. I didn’t have the confidence to leave sooner.’

  ‘Low self-esteem. Feelings of insecurity brought on by being constantly told how unworthy you are. A self-fulfilling prophecy.’

  ‘Now you’ve gone into professional mode,’ said Ellen. ‘You weren’t supposed to do that.’

  Donovan leant back and held his hands up. ‘Sorry. Guilty as charged.’ He smiled at her. ‘I do understand and I’m not judging you.’

  ‘But your mind is racing as to Izzy’s safety. If Toby has found me and is doing these things, then that makes me a liability.’ She might as well say it now. What was the point in pretending that Donovan wanted to know all this simply because he was interested in her welfare? After all, she meant nothing to him, not compared to his daughter. There was no way he’d put Izzy in any danger because an employee, whom he’d known for a short time, was having problems with an ex-boyfriend. Besides, if it was Toby, then she needed to move on. Somewhere else where he couldn’t find her. ‘It’s okay, Donovan. I understand. I’ll get my stuff together tonight. If I can say goodbye to Izzy in the morning, I’d appreciate that.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Donovan tossed and turned all night. Izzy was, of course, his number-one priority. She always had been and always would be. Fact. Letting Ellen walk out of here to escape from her ex-boyfriend was the most logical thing. But something was tugging at his conscience. Could he really let Ellen walk away when she was clearly in danger? What if something really bad happened to her? He knew from profiling stalkers before, and from counselling them, that most of them were harmless, but Toby, well, Donovan couldn’t assess him properly merely on what Ellen had said, but it certainly sounded as though he had narcissistic tendencies. This, coupled with his controlling nature and, ultimately, being rejected by Ellen, all pointed to Toby being dangerous. He was somewhere between the rejected stalker and the predatory stalker. Unless stopped now, things would only get worse for Ellen, no matter where she went. Toby seemed intent upon tracking her down.

  Donovan was also aware of the little niggling feeling in his stomach that the thought of Ellen leaving triggered. Reluctantly, he acknowledged this had nothing to do with Ellen being stalked. More to do with the feelings he was surprised he was already developing for her. Maybe, it would be better if she wasn’t around. Getting involved with his daughter’s nanny was surely a recipe for disaster. No good would come of it. Well, that’s the advice he would give to one of his patients. Whether he could take his own advice was another matter.

  ‘Sod it,’ he muttered to himself, as he flung the duvet back. He was about to do something he’d probably regret.

  This was getting to be lik déjà vu thought Donovan as he stood outside Ellen’s bedroom door, waiting for her to answer his knock.

  The look on her face when she opened the door told him that she was probably thinking the same.

  ‘Seems we’re making a habit of this,’ he said, adding a smile to show that he wasn’t cross or angry.

  ‘A bit like Groundhog Day,’ she said.

  ‘Only not so nice. I’d sooner it was Groundhog Day when something good had happened.’

  ‘Me too.’ She looked expectantly at him. Concern settling on her face. ‘Is everything all right? Is there something wrong with Izzy?’

  Once again, he liked the fact that her first thought was of Izzy and not herself. ‘No, it’s all right. She’s fast asleep.’

  The concern didn’t move from her face. ‘Has something happened? You know … Toby?’

  ‘Everything is fine,’ he reassured her. ‘Can we talk?’

  The concern was replaced by a frown. ‘What, now?’

  ‘It’s important.’

  Ellen opened the door and stood back. ‘You’d better come in.’

  As Donovan entered the bedroom and closed the door gently behind them, he was fully aware of the warm, cosy feeling to the room, a light scent of Ellen floated around in the air from her bed, the open duvet, the sheet rumpled where she had been lying just a few moments earlier.

  ‘What’s so important?’ she asked, as she walked over to her bed and folded the duvet down, concealing the intimacy of the room. She turned and stood facing him across the blue rug spread out over the floorboards. A physical divide. You stay your side and I’ll stay mine. He read the signals.

  ‘I don’t want you to leave in the morning. I wanted to tell you before you got up and spoke to Izzy.’

  ‘What? After the note, the car, the cat and what I told you last night, you want me to stay?’ She laughed. ‘You should see a shrink. You must be mad.’

  He grinned at her comment. ‘I’ve been thinking for hours about it all. You don’t know for sure it is Toby. It could be a coincidence.’ Why the hell was he saying that? He knew he didn’t believe in coincidences. However, Ellen didn’t know that, and he wanted more than anything to convince her to stay. ‘We should report it to the police. They won’t do anything as there’s no hard evidence, but it won’t hurt to make an official report so it’s on record.’

  ‘I’m not making a statement to the police.’

  ‘You sound pretty adamant about that.’

  ‘That’s because I am.’ She tilted her chin up as if to reaffirm her words. ‘I don’t want to be connected with Toby in any way, shape or form.’

  ‘It will all be treated confidentially. You really don’t have anything to fear.’

  ‘You make a statement if you want but I’m not. Sorry.’ Her voice betrayed her words. She wasn’t sorry, she was determined.

  Donovan assessed the situation for a moment before he spoke.

  ‘In that case, we will have to be on our guard. Take extra care. I’ll do the school run with you every day. You be vigilant and we will just see what happens,’ he said with rather more confidence than he felt. ‘I’ll have a word with Ken, you know my friend who’s the DCI at the local police station. All off the record so don’t worry, I won’t mention any names. For my own peace of mind, I want to have at least spoken to Ken about it.’ He also had in mind that he’d ask Ken to get an officer to pay a visit to Toby but he’d keep that to himself for now, he didn’t want to make Ellen any more anxious.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why, what?’

  ‘Why are you willing to put yourselves in danger just for me?’

  ‘Because Izzy really likes you. She’s taken to you and she would be upset if you went.’ As would he, but he’d keep that to himself as well. ‘Also, because I think if there is anything to this, you are putting yourself in more danger. You can’t run away from him forever. You need to confront this. To bring it to a head. Deal with it. Sort it. And then you can live the rest of your life freely. You don’t want to be looking over your shoulder forever?’

  She appeared to reflect on what he said. ‘Okay. I’ll stay. For Izzy but only if you are sure.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ He took a step forward on to the rug but then stopped himself. Much as his desire to find out what was beneath her dressing gown, he knew this was not the time. To take advantage of her when she was vulnerable and afraid would be a bad move. A very bad move.

  As if sensing his intentions, Ellen moved towards the window, pulling up the roller blind to let the pinky-red dawn sky fill the room. She spoke without turning. ‘Of course, it may not even be Toby.’

  ‘No, this is true,’ agreed Donovan, glad for a second that she had moved, but kicking himself for not being able to avert his eyes from her. ‘What’s your other theory?’

  ‘It could be one of your clients.’ She turned and faced him now. ‘Or some criminal you helped convict and who is now seeking revenge.’

  ‘A bit TV cop show, but true,’ he replied, although he had to admit it was a valid suggestion. ‘Another reason for you not to make any rash decisions and leave.’

  ‘It’s okay, you’ve already persuaded me to stay.’ She turned and smiled at him. ‘
You win.’

  ‘Naturally,’ he said. He returned the smile before taking his leave.

  As Donovan made his way back to his bedroom, he was very aware of the feeling of satisfaction that he had achieved his mission. Ellen wasn’t leaving.

  He looked furtively over his shoulder, checking he wasn’t being followed. Things so far had been easy and low-risk. Now, however, he was moving up a gear. He rapped on the door and waited as he had been instructed to. The back door in the side street opened an inch.

  ‘Yeah?’

  It was the sort of greeting he expected. ‘I’ve come to see Danny.’

  ‘Ain’t no Danny here.’

  ‘He’s expecting me. We’ve got a business transaction to carry out. I’ve come to purchase some iron.’

  ‘Who sent you?’

  ‘Micky Thomas.’

  The door closed and he listened to numerous chains being set free before he was let in. It was dark inside and smelt of weed. A haze of smoke drifted down the hallway. He followed the door keeper towards the room at the back of the flat. A small orange light filtered across the room. Danny sat on the sofa, a joint in one hand and a beer in the other. His eyes assessed the guest, who shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

  ‘So, you’ve come for some ironware. Micky said you were good for the deal. Let’s see your money.’

  ‘I want to see the merchandise first.’

  Danny nodded and reached down over the side of the sofa. He retrieved a shoebox and slid it across the coffee table. ‘Untraceable. The serial number’s been filed off.’

  He pulled the box closer to him, took the lid off and removed the cloth. The handgun was heavy in his hand. Moving the butt to his palm, he closed his hand around it, his forefinger taking position against the trigger.

 

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