WHO FOLLOWS: a gripping, dramatic, intense and suspenseful thriller

by Diane M Dickson

  The last years have been difficult, I have needed to work so very hard. Maria, how you still hurt me. True, it hasn’t always been so very near to the forefront of my mind but it is there, like a miasma hidden in the more solid everyday. I try to hold it back, I keep busy, physical activity is often the answer.

  I take other precautions as well. Sensible adult actions. I never go to the woods at the top of the heath. I know that should I go there my feet would be drawn inexorably to that spot where the earth is soft and the moss smells of damp and rot. That way lies disaster. I never see any of our old acquaintances. This is easy as I moved away from our old flat after the event. I don’t play the music that she liked, I have discarded many discs and films that we listened to and watched together. Yes, I decided very quickly that the best way to insulate myself was to try to behave as if the whole sad, sad affair had never happened. But it did, didn’t it? And so now and again when my guard is down she intrudes. It has made me afraid, afraid to hope and to trust, I couldn’t bear it should I find myself in that place again.

  No, no I don’t need to go down that road. I had dreaded that something of that nature would happen but in the event, we spent a wonderful evening of friendship and laughter and before I could take things any further it was time for her to go. As we stood in the hall waiting for the taxi, I took her hand ready to declare myself and she simply smiled and leaned to me and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

  “What a lovely evening we have had. You must come to me next time and we must make it soon.” And at that the taxi blew its horn and she was gone. I felt bereft and stupid to be frank and even now can’t explain how I let things get so much away from me.

  Now I am sitting here unwilling to go upstairs, I know that tonight Maria will be with me. I have a feeling of dread and a solid lump of disquiet in my stomach. I will need to remain sleepless, on guard. I will do some work and then if that doesn’t help there is no other option but to go and run in the dark streets with the rain glistening on the cobbles and the silence of the night to wrap up my thoughts and deaden the memory.

  Chapter 13

  I have tried to work but the wine will have its way and no meaningful progress will be made tonight.

  It feels strange to be donning running gear with the street lamps peering through the gaps in the curtains and the house creaking in the way that houses only do in the darkest hours. I feel a thrill, I am not afraid, I will take a whistle with me and my confidence and all will be well.

  As I pull the door closed quietly behind me the damp air kisses my cheek and moisture very quickly coats the skin of my face. There is the feel of rain in the air and the trees drip quietly into the silence.

  Down the path and turn, to the left. No, no tonight I will take the other route. The wine fizzes in my blood and my nerves tingle as I head for the Heath. I shouldn’t do this I know but there is madness in me now. Where did it come from? I don’t know, but it enthrals me and the decision is made to let it draw me onwards down roads that I have avoided for some two years. Up the once familiar slope to the top of the Heath and then across the gravel and there it is before me now, the wood.

  Shivers trickle up and down my spine as my pulse quickens more from the strange excitement than from the jogging. Oh I know I am no longer young but I have stayed fit, partly because of good genes and partly because of effort. The exercise has taken very little toll on my breathing but this thing that I am about to do causes my lungs to feel deprived and my heart to thud in a way that is part discomfort, part thrill. My knees shake, and my hands tremble.

  The branches are lowered with the weight of the rain on the leaves and they grab and reach at me as I enter the darkness. There is no need for a torch. The moonlight and the small glow from the street lamps are enough. Though I haven’t been this way for many months I know the pathway as if I trod it only yesterday. In the night watches I have imagined this journey over and over. The weight of the body, the stickiness of the drying blood and yes, I admit it, the horror of what I had done. It has become now like a dream or a film seen many years ago but as I tread deeper along the spongy path the night transforms and I am transported in time. I can almost see it from this two years distance, her head lolls against my shoulder, her body, wrapped in a sheet is surprisingly heavy and I stop several times to rest. The fear comes back, much diminished but still it clenches at my gut and causes me to gasp. I hadn’t forgotten but I now remember vividly and it is more awful than I had thought.

  It is deeply dark now and I need to hold my hand in front of me to avoid colliding with the trunks and take care that I don’t trip on partly buried roots. That night I had brought a torch because I had gone back and forth, once with the bundle in the sheet and then back for the spade from the boot of the car and then lastly for the small bag of belongings that I needed to dispose of.

  It is there now before me, the clearing. How peaceful it seems. Quiet in the gloom and monotone, just shadow and yet deeper shadow with here and there the glow of a white rock or a piece of litter. I think I remember the very tree and slowly I approach. Yes, yes this is the one. It is a huge willow and at the base I know that the rich soil and green moss are imbued with decay.

  My knees have at last let me go and I flop to the earth, I am overwhelmed with feelings I don’t understand. It is a strange passion, recognition of the magnitude of the deed and then atop that relief that all is as it was, there is no sign of disturbance and I realise that this has been cathartic for me. It has actually been beneficial to come here and be where she is.

  “Maria, how different it could all have been.”

  Chapter 14

  I sat for quite some time beside the great tree. The rain stopped and though the trees dripped and the grass dampened my jogging pants it was peaceful and for the first time in two years I allowed the horror of that dreadful night to invade my thoughts.

  Ah Maria. I had believed that she was the answer to my loneliness, she was young yes, and so she was fresh and new. She was charming and a little flighty. Her blonde beauty took my breath whenever I watched her moving and laughing and living.

  I remembered how the connection between us had grown from the time when we met in the pay queue in the supermarket. She had never known how I had watched her, worshipping her from a distance for weeks. How I had waited outside the hospital until she came off duty and how I had paced back and forth along the road where her little flat was just for a momentary glimpse as she walked to her car.

  As the relationship grew we had taken meals together in the little cafes near her home. We had visited bars local to the hospital and all the time I had nursed the idea that we would make a life together. She moved in with me as a lodger and then after a week of bliss I judged the time ready for my declaration.

  That dreadful night. The nightmare of it all came back and as I sat on the damp grass I heard her laughter again and the mocking words with which she cruelly rejected my advances. I heard again the crack as the heavy lamp connected with the bones of her skull and the soft shushing as her limp body crumpled to the floor.

  Oh my God, I cried for the horror of it all there in the dripping woodland. I cried for the fear, the panic and the grief. I shook like the quivering leaves above me as I re-lived the desperation and the enormity of my actions. I sobbed as I remembered what I had done to preserve my existence. I had wrapped the still warm body. Collecting the few belongings that she had moved into the little bedroom I left my house with her for the nightmare drive to the Heath. I dug in the dark woods. Now I imagined I could hear again the heavy thud her body made as it rolled over the heap of earth I had piled beside the shallow hole.

  I stopped my mad mindrace. I drew a deep breath and I stood. For a moment I bowed my head in sorrow. There was no use for this and so I straightened my shoulders, stiffened my spine and turned away.

  Oh yes I feel so very much better and so I jog back towards my home. Through the wood and the Heath and down the shimmering streets. As my feet pound the dam
p flagstones I feel a new resolve growing. I will handle things differently this time. My dearest Hannah, with you I will be sure to judge my time better. I am glad now that I haven’t spoken yet. Providence was with me last night, oh yes. All is well and my heart is light as I approach my road.

  I see that the massive car is still in my drive and as I draw nearer I see that Hannah has come to collect it. She is climbing into the driving seat and I raise a hand to wave, to catch her eye. That is when I notice that there is another figure in the car, a passenger in the other seat. Another woman I think. At this time in the morning who is this with her in the predawn light? Here she is collecting her car like a thief in the night and with a collaborator.

  Chapter 15

  I am puzzled and uneasy. Was she trying to avoid meeting me? Surely not after the wonderful evening we spent. More importantly though who was the passenger in the other seat?

  As I take my shower I mull those moments and what I had seen over and over until I doubt the evidence of my own eyes. I know that the car has gone and so there is solid proof that I did indeed see Hannah but was it a trick of the dull light and shadow that made it appear that there was another figure inside? My mind whirls and my nerves jangle with perturbation. I must take control. Stepping out of the needling water I use a harsh towel to rub my body until it is pink and humming. Downstairs the watery light through my kitchen window shines on my scalding cup of coffee as I sit at the table trying to concentrate.

  I have spent a very emotional and highly charged night. No sleep, rather an excess of alcohol and the turmoil in my soul caused by the visit to the wood.

  In truth I know so very little about her life. I had taken it as read that Hannah lives alone. She tells me that she is divorced but continues to run the interior design business with her ex-husband. I assumed that she occupies the flat that she has, off the London Road by the hospital, alone.

  To date I have not declared my interest. The times that we have spent together have been as loving friends. She knows nothing of when I possessed her shawl, those wonderful nights when it lay across the pillow on my bed and I caressed it and smoothed it as I drifted into sleep. Tears start to my eyes at the thought that there is someone else who shares her life.

  I think that the shape in the car was female. Oh how cruel that would be for me to find that there is another love interest and that it should be someone like myself who appreciates Hannah’s beauty and femininity. Someone who treats her with gentle care as I would if only I were to be given the opportunity.

  I am bereft and my mind races this way and that, I am unable to catch a thought and pin it down. My hands shake and the coffee splashes onto the table top. Roughly I push back the chair and it tumbles to the floor scratching the front of the cupboard. I pace back and forth across the tiles, my hands wring and tears escape to trace lines across my cheeks.

  I take a deep breath. I declare aloud, “Stop now, stop it.” I stand before the window and allow my brain to settle, my thoughts to calm. I will go now, today. I will find the flat in the street off London Road and I will watch. It is something I do well. I will find a place from where to keep vigil, a place where I am invisible and I will watch and when I see the truth then I will make my plan.

  I leave the house and take my bicycle and ride through the quiet roads, round by the park and then down to the London Road. I have her address on a piece of paper. It is so easy now to find addresses on the internet. Just a couple of minutes that is all it took me. I can see it opposite to me, the converted Victorian mansion and in the front parking area the great black car. Now my love, now I will watch you like a guardian angel.

  Chapter 16

  Five days have passed since the night that I spent in the woods with my memories and Maria. I have watched for most of that time hidden in a dark corner near to the house where Hannah has her flat. There is a church almost opposite with an imposing gateway. The stone pillars are tall and wide and the pathway overhung with a dark growth of trees and shrubs. It is perfect for me.

  I suppose that in years gone by I could not have used that place, churches were visited daily and I would be continually in danger of being seen. Now though, apart from scavenging dogs and one or two old ladies with sad little bunches of flowers there is no passing traffic. The old ladies barely glanced at me, there is a war memorial just beside the pathway and I made a great pretence of reading the names inscribed in the stone.

  From my secret place I was able to see Hannah’s flat very clearly. I was there in the morning before she woke. She rises at around seven. The first day I was there from four because I didn’t know her routine but after that I was able to arrive between six and seven.

  The light in what I have discovered must be her bedroom flashes on behind the filmy cream curtains. It is a small light and I imagine it to be some sort of alarm clock, probably one of those which turn on the radio. Does she listen to music as she wakes or is it The News that starts her day? So much for me to discover about her. There is a small window beside the bedroom and the glass is frosted and so of course this must be the bathroom, this is the one that is illuminated next and then the loveliest thing of all. The first morning I was overwhelmed by what I saw. The flat is on the second floor and so it must feel very private and so my beautiful girl comes to the kitchen window in the early morning light. Her hair is dishevelled from tossing in her sleep. The light is behind her and her head is alight with the golden strands of unkempt hair. Quite, quite beautiful. Each day she has worn a gown with thin straps and as my eye lights on her almost bare shoulders I imagine the feel of that night warmed skin I anticipate when I am able to caress it and enfold her in my arms.

  For three of the days she left quite early and climbed into her car to head into town. I pedalled quickly through the back streets and was able to arrive very shortly after she did at her little office in the old building near to Costa. I stayed in town all day watching in case she went out or met anyone and then repeated the trip in reverse to see her turning on her lights as she arrived back at her home.

  I am far, far behind in my work. Two deadlines have passed unfilled and I have many calls needing to be returned, but for now it must all wait. My house has grown dusty and there is no fresh food left in the fridge. I can’t spare the time to shop. Should I turn my back for a moment I could miss her meeting with someone or leaving her work for a lunch time dalliance. I can’t risk any time away from where she is.

  The other days were a worry to me, she rose at the usual time and then stayed in the flat for longer. Eventually driving away, she headed in the other direction and off towards the motorway. Of course it was impossible for me to follow then and I spent the days in agony wondering where she was and what she was doing.

  However, one thing is now clear to me, and I can hardly contain my delight – she does indeed live alone.

  I have watched her walk from room to room, stand by the window and pull the great heavy curtains at night and always it is she and she alone that I have seen. One day another person arrived just after she had gone into the flat. It was a woman who rang the bell. Hannah came to the door and invited her inside. It didn’t cause me any discomfort because it was clear that although they did seem to know each other there was no real affection evident in the greetings and the visitor stayed about an hour before leaving on foot.

  My worries were for nothing. She is alone in her life and so when I make my move there will be nothing and no-one for her to worry and wonder about. The relief I feel is overwhelming.

  I have called her today, I have invited her to a play and for dinner tomorrow evening and she has told me that she will let me know by this afternoon. I don’t know why she couldn’t agree immediately, there can be no reason for her not to come. I have seen her life, it is quiet and really I think rather empty. Well not for much longer, my dear Hannah. I intend to fill every moment of your future with my love.

  She can give up the flat, I imagine that it is rented and there is no need for her to
keep it on. She will come here of course. I did consider preparing the smaller bedroom but then held off for now. She might well want to bring some of her own things and then together we will set up our home. I am so happy for her, she is as yet unaware of my plans for us, but how can she fail to be anything but delighted when I set it all before her?

  I have bought a nightdress like the one that she wears. It is wrapped in tissue in one of the empty drawers just waiting. I have been rather silly and bought some of the perfume that she uses, this is in the drawer also. I have been able to find a shawl just like hers and I use it now when I sit and read in bed. It makes me feel close to her and I have sprayed it with the perfume. I can almost believe that she is here with me already.

  Chapter 17

  The strains of Beethoven ring out from my mobile. I am always shocked when it sounds, in fact I am going to change it to a more ordinary ringtone. I had thought it was quirky and modern of me to have it sound music but now I have to confess that it doesn’t suit me. Pressing the tiny button my heart jumps as I see the message on the screen, Hannah calling.

  “Hannah, my dear. How are you?”

  “Fine, yes just fine Amy. I am calling about the play, about tonight.”

  “Ah, you are coming aren’t you?”

  “Yes, yes that’s it. I am really looking forward to it. Shall we eat before or after, it may be quite late?”

  “I did wonder, my dear. How about we eat afterwards and then maybe you could come back here with me and spend the night. I could make up the spare room and you would be very welcome.”

  “Well, your place is about the same distance from town as mine. I don’t see that it would save any time.”

  I must think quickly, she must come, she must.