WATCHING YOU_The gripping edge-of-the-seat thriller with a stunning twist.

by Lynda Renham

  ‘William and Caroline?’ he questions.

  ‘William is my lawyer. He and his wife Caroline took me in after the murders.’

  He nods.

  ‘I could have a look at the house and advise you,’ he suggests.

  I chew my lip. The thought of going back to Manstead makes my stomach churn. It would be easier though, going with someone else. The ghosts might not be so terrifying if I’m not alone. But there’s Ewan … Still if he’s in London maybe this is the best time to go back to Manstead.

  ‘The thing is …’

  ‘I’ll be with you,’ he says reassuringly as though reading my mind. ‘You can take your bodyguard too if that helps.’

  I smile.

  ‘Ewan is an extremely capable person. He fears nothing and is a skilled marksman with a gun. He’s not a fool.’

  ‘Then he isn’t going to come after you in broad daylight at the house where the murder happened, especially if you’re with someone.’

  I nod. He’s quite right and I’ve got to go back sometime. I can’t put it off forever. ‘Okay, if you’re sure?’

  Our main meals arrive, and he settles back in his seat.

  ‘I’d love to come. It’s the perfect weather for a day at the seaside.’

  *

  By the time we arrive back at the flat I’m quite tipsy.

  ‘I’ll see you to your door,’ Simon says.

  ‘Won’t you come up for a coffee,’ I say.

  He hesitates.

  ‘If you’re sure? I wouldn’t mind using your loo.’

  ‘Of course,’ I say, walking ahead.

  It’s a different concierge and my heart beats a little faster. I’ve not seen him before.

  ‘Good evening madam,’ he smiles.

  ‘I thought James would be on this evening,’ I say cautiously.

  ‘He’s off sick madam.’

  ‘He seemed fine this morning,’ I say.

  ‘I wouldn’t know about that madam.’

  ‘Good evening Lee,’ says Simon, noting the name badge on Lee’s lapel.

  ‘Good evening sir.’

  Simon pushes the lift button and then we’re on our way up.

  ‘I was expecting James,’ I say, realising I sound paranoid.

  ‘I expect he needs a break,’ smiles Simon.

  ‘If it’s not James then it’s …’

  I realise I don’t know the name of the other concierge.

  ‘Patrick,’ says Simon.

  ‘Patrick?’ I repeat in a shaky voice.

  ‘That’s the name of the other concierge.’

  ‘Oh, is it?’

  ‘James told me.’

  Simon smiles and walks to my door. I fumble for the keys, pulling out the rape alarm as I do so.

  Simon raises his eyebrows.

  ‘I always carry it,’ I say.

  He nods. God, he must think I’m such a neurotic. Last time a knife fell out of my bag.

  ‘Let me,’ he says taking the keys. ‘Sorry to be in a rush,’ he smiles ‘but I badly need your loo.’

  ‘You’ll need to turn off the alarm,’ I said quickly.

  He waits while I punch in the numbers and then rushes to the bathroom. I close the door and lean against it feeling relieved to be back in the safety of my own flat.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Fifteen years earlier

  Ewan frowned as he watched Ben’s truck speed down the driveway. He strolled back to the house and entered through the back door. Molly looked up from the pastry she was making.

  ‘Ewan,’ she acknowledged. ‘Was that you shooting?’

  He looked at his arm.

  ‘It’s the hunt from Widcombe, come for their annual pheasant shoot.’

  ‘No one told me. I haven’t prepared refreshments,’ she said worriedly.

  ‘Don’t look so panic-stricken,’ he smiled. ‘Edward’s taking them out for lunch.’

  She let out a sigh of relief.

  ‘Is he in the morning room?’ Ewan asked.

  She nodded and pulled a tray of mince pies from the oven. He whistled in appreciation and reached out for one.

  ‘No way Ewan Galbreith,’ she reprimanded, but he already had one in his hand.

  ‘Serve you right if you burn your mouth.’

  He blew her a kiss and walked out of the kitchen to the morning room. He knocked on the door and waited.

  ‘Come in,’ Edward barked.

  Edward was sitting on the couch a pile of papers on his lap.

  ‘Bloody paperwork. How’s the horse?’

  ‘I’ve called the vet,’ said Ewan, stuffing the last of the pie into his mouth.

  Edward sighed.

  ‘The man’s a rip-off merchant.’

  ‘He’s good at his job,’ said Ewan.

  ‘Princess is an old horse.’

  ‘She’s not finished yet,’ Ewan disagreed.

  Edward got up and poured himself a brandy. He nodded to the bottle.

  ‘How’s the arm?’

  ‘Not great.’

  ‘I guess this will help then. You might as well. You help yourself to everything else.’

  ‘So, what’s the problem?’ Edward said as he handed a glass of brandy to Ewan.

  ‘I saw Ben Mitchell leaving here. I figured he came to ask you for money.’

  Edward nodded and sat behind the desk.

  ‘You used our gun to shoot his boat.’

  Ewan looked down at his glass.

  ‘Are you going to deny it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So,’ said Edward sitting back in his chair. ‘If he decided to press charges, then it would come out that you used my gun irresponsibly. I’d have to let you go and … well it then gets messy. It was only two hundred. The bugger no doubt deserved what you did but I wish you’d use a little self-control sometimes.’

  Ewan finished the brandy, turned to leave and then hesitated.

  ‘Something else?’ Edward asked.

  ‘It’s Libby.’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘There are some gypsies in town. They’ve not caused any trouble. I just think she’s going to get herself in hot water.’

  Edward sighed.

  ‘She’s taken with one of them. Patrick is his name. He’s got three kids. No money. He’s from Australia.’

  ‘That’s just perfect,’ said Edward.

  ‘She’s lonely, you know that. She’d be out with our crowd if she could …’

  ‘God forbid.’

  Ewan gave a scornful laugh.

  ‘She’d be a lot safer than with those gypsies.’

  ‘A bloody job is what she needs,’ Edward said, checking his watch. ‘I’ve got that shooting party to take to lunch. I need your advice on something. Pop back and see me tonight. I will want an update on Princess too.’

  ‘Sure and thanks.’

  ‘I didn’t have a lot of choice did I Ewan? It’s a good job I think you’re worth it.’

  Ewan smiled and closed the door.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Present day

  Libby

  I click on the air conditioning and pull off my wrap. I can hear Simon running the tap in the bathroom. The phone bleeps again and I take it from my bag. My heart skips when I see it is a text from an unknown number. It’s a photo. I can barely look at it. But it’s innocent enough. I’m expecting something gruesome, but it isn’t, and it takes me several seconds to realise what I’m looking at. It’s a picture of the lilies in their box. I click into the second message.

  Did you like my flowers?

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?’ Simon says as he comes out of the bathroom.

  ‘What?’ I say distracted.

  ‘Shall I make the coffee?’

  ‘Oh, yes, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Sure, do you want one?’

  I hear him bustling around in the kitchen. My phone bleeps again. Simon didn’t send the flowers, so who did?

  ‘I didn’t add sugar.’
Says Simon, wandering in with the coffees.

  ‘You didn’t send the flowers?’ I ask.

  He looks baffled and then follows my eyes to the lilies.

  ‘I …’ he looks embarrassed. ‘No, I’m sorry I didn’t.’

  I fall onto the couch and hand my phone to him.

  ‘I thought it had to be you. I don’t know anyone else that would send me flowers. It was Ewan then, he did it.’

  He takes my phone.

  ‘There’s another text on here,’ he says.

  ‘From him?’

  ‘It’s a Goodreads recommendation.’

  I stare at him.

  ‘A Goodreads recommendation?’ I repeat.

  He hands me the phone and I click into the link. My ears buzz when the book cover pops up onto the screen. A blonde curvaceous woman wearing a long red chiffon dress stares back at me and my breathing quickens as I recall the book.

  ‘Lay her among the lilies,’ I whisper.

  I don’t need to read the book title. I know the book well enough. It was one of Uncle Edward’s favourites. The book had been found on the floor the night of the murder. It had been splattered with his blood. It had been evidence, shown to the jury. Is that what Ewan has planned for me. Laying me among the blood and lilies? I shudder.

  Simon takes the phone from me and calls the unknown number. He puts it onto speaker phone and an automated voice tells me the number is not recognised. I want to scream in frustration.

  ‘How did he get my number? It’s a new phone,’ I say struggling to breathe.

  ‘Did you load the backup from your old phone?’

  ‘Yes,’ I mutter.

  ‘I don’t know, but if you had a virus on the old phone then it may have been transferred onto this one.’

  ‘I need to phone Fran,’ I say.

  ‘It’s midnight,’ he says softly.

  I take my phone from him and check the time. How did it get to be so late? I jump up and pull the flowers from the vases.

  ‘He’s trying to frighten you,’ he says.

  ‘He’s succeeding,’ I say, tears pricking my eyelids.

  ‘Let me take these,’ he says, carefully removing the flowers from my hands. ‘I ought to be going anyway. I’ll throw them away on my way out.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, trying to control the anger that is shaking my whole body. He taps me on the shoulder and I turn to face him. I wait for his kiss, but it doesn’t come.

  ‘I’ll phone you. Let me know if you change your number in the meantime. I’ve got a lot of meetings this week so it may not be until the weekend,’ he says apologetically.

  ‘That’s ok,’ I say feeling shaken and lost.

  ‘I’ll pick you up Saturday, say about ten? We can have a leisurely drive to Cornwall.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ I say, forgetting that I had agreed he could come. I close the door after him and secure the locks before falling onto the couch and bursting into tears.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Fifteen years earlier.

  The bible felt cool in her hands. Its leather worn and faded. She wondered how many other people had sworn on this bible, to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. She looked at the barrister and then back at the bible. The lights in the court room were too bright. They were giving her a headache.

  ‘Could I have some water please and some aspirin?’ she asked.

  The barrister looked at the judge. He must have nodded because someone brought a glass of water and some pills. She took them and then the bible was pushed into her hands again.

  ‘You need to swear,’ the barrister said softly.

  He was a nice man with a soft voice, but she couldn’t remember his name. The other one wasn’t so gentle. He was aggressive with her, nasty. She suspected that it was him that had given her the headache.

  ‘Please state your full name for the court.’

  ‘Elisabeth Jane Owen.’

  ‘Miss Owen, can you tell us in your own words what happened on the night that your aunt and uncle died?’

  She could feel Ewan’s eyes boring through her. Always she could feel those eyes. Her shoulders ached where she had hunched them and her neck felt stiff. She forced herself to glance his way. Her eyes met his. He was staring straight at her. His body tense. His usual handsome features were not smiling at her. His eyes were hard, his mouth set in a firm line. He was frowning, waiting to hear what she had to say.

  She took a deep breath and started to speak but the words caught in her throat and she coughed. Someone handed her a glass of water. She thought she heard someone on the jury sigh.

  ‘You went to a party that night, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes …’ she faltered. ‘Yes, I went to Laura’s. She’s my friend. It was at her house.’

  ‘Where was that?’

  ‘Baywater Heights.’

  ‘That’s close to the beachfront isn’t it?’

  Libby nodded.

  ‘Could you answer the question please Miss Owen.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘Do you remember what time you left the party?’

  Libby shrugged.

  ‘Not exactly, but it was after midnight because we’d celebrated the millennium.’

  ‘Did your aunt and uncle go out that evening?’

  ‘No, they were going to have a dinner party but my aunt had a migraine so they cancelled it.’

  ‘So the staff at Manstead Manor would have known they hadn’t gone out?’

  ‘Objection. That’s a leading question Your Honour.’

  ‘Please rephrase the question Mr Fosh.’

  ‘Did any of the staff work that evening?’

  ‘Yes, there was a lot of clearing up to do. Aunty Rose had ordered all the food. Molly had to wrap it all and freeze it and …’

  ‘Did you see Mr Galbreith before the shootings, earlier in the evening, for instance?’

  ‘Yes, I went to see the horses before I went out. He was with them in the stables.’

  ‘Roughly what time was that?’

  ‘About seven-thirty, I think. I don’t remember. I was meeting Laura at eight. We were going to a pub in Exeter and then back to hers for the party.’

  ‘Was there a problem with one of the horses?’

  Libby nodded, and tears sprang to her eyes.

  ‘Princess was sick. She’d not been well for a while, since before Christmas.’

  ‘I see. And were you upset about it?’

  ‘Yes, and so was Ewan. He loved Princess.’

  ‘Had the vet been?’

  ‘Ewan said he was coming later.’

  ‘Did Mr Galbreith at any time mention having the horse put down?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said emphatically. ‘That was why the vet was coming back.’

  ‘Did you agree with that?’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ she said looking at Ewan. ‘Ewan knew horses.’

  ‘Did the vet come?’

  ‘I didn’t see him. I went out after that.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Owen.’

  Libby felt her legs give way. She didn’t want to think about that night. She didn’t want to think about Princess and what happened to her. Ewan must have been out of his mind.

  Chapter Forty

  Present day

  Libby

  I wake in a sweat and throw the duvet off me. It’s just starting to get light. I fumble for my phone to see what time it is and then remember I had switched it off. I’m afraid to turn it on in case there is another message from Ewan. I consider calling Fran to tell her about the lilies but decide against it. What would be the point? She’ll only ask if I can prove it is Ewan. I lean over for my wrap and slide out of bed.

  I scoop Merlin into my arms and take him back to bed where I pull the duvet over us. I then pull my new laptop towards me and turn it on. Using the landline, I call the security company’s number and book the bodyguard for the rest of the week.

  ‘He’s already at your building Miss Warren,’ says
the efficient receptionist.

  There are no suspicious emails. I let out a sigh of relief and click into my graphics folder on the cloud. I won’t think about Ewan Galbreith. I need to get the first draft of my graphics concept ready for Carol. I promised to have them ready by tomorrow. I flip back into my emails and check the diary. Damn it, I’d forgotten that the Swift Corporation’s opening party was tomorrow. I’d meant to ask Simon if he’d like to come. I glance nervously at my phone. What if Simon was right and there had been a virus on the phone? What if Ewan was tracking my location from my phone, or even, watching me through the camera? I grow hot. God, is he is watching me now? Did he see me crying last night? Has he seen me undress? I throw the phone down as if it was a hot coal. Fuck! I can’t be without a phone. I’ll have to buy another one, but this time I won’t restore my backup. I won’t phone Fran. I won’t contact the police either. I’ll track Ewan down myself. I’ll find a private investigator. They will be able to tell me where Ewan is. I have every right to know. How dare the police keep that from me? A quick search on Google brings up several private investigators in London. I call one from the landline and make an appointment for this afternoon.

  ‘Work,’ I say, picking up Merlin. ‘I’ve got a few hours before lunch.’

  *

  Grant, the bodyguard is waiting in his car. I ask him to take me to the Sushi bar where I am meeting Donna for lunch. Several people brush by me on the street. I look across the road to the bus stop where a man waits. He’s reading a newspaper. I study him for a second and then get into the car. I’m taking no chances now. I have the kitchen knife in my handbag along with the rape alarm, and a pepper spray. If I have to finish off Ewan Galbreith before he does me then that’s exactly what I intend to do. He ruined my life. Took my future away from me and now he wants revenge. I had no choice but to put him away. I couldn’t let him get away with what he did. Ewan Galbreith threatened me. Ewan Galbreith carries out his threats. I thought Fran Marshall knew that.

  Donna smiles at the sight of me. I’d made an effort. Her expression changes however when she sees Grant.

  ‘Do you really think that’s necessary?’ she asks, glancing at him.