could speak to?’ Ellen asked.
‘I tried,’ Monica said. ‘There was an art teacher who was kind to me. But when I told her what was happening at home, she didn’t believe me. After that, I decided to deal with it myself.’
‘How?’
‘Got a job, saved some money and got the hell away from there. Moved away from home when I was seventeen and haven’t looked back since.’
‘He never tried to find you?’ Ellen asked.
Monica shook her head. ‘The night I left, I stole his car. I was reversing out of the driveway when I saw him. He was roaring at me, telling me he wouldn’t let me go. Banging on the car door,trying to get in. I panicked. Swerved into him and knocked him over. After that night, I never saw him again.’
Monica lifted her glass and drained the rest of her water. When she drank, her lipstick left a red stain on the glass.
A car horn beeped outside the house.
‘Your cab,’ Ellen said.
At the front door, Monica embraced Ellen.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. She held Ellen a moment too long, soft body pressed against Ellen’s, and thrust the lower half of her body into Ellen’s. The movement was so sudden and brief, Ellen couldn’t be sure, afterwards, she hadn’t imagined it. Just as quickly, Monica released her and was running down the path, splashing through puddles and into the waiting cab.
Ellen waited until the cab had turned the corner at the end of the road and disappeared. Only then did she let out the breath she was holding. Relief that Monica was gone. The whole encounter had been deeply uncomfortable. At the end of it all, Ellen was no closer to understanding what Monica Telford was all about. The story about her father should have triggered feelings of sympathy. Instead, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that Monica had been playing with her. Why, Ellen had no idea. Not yet. The one thing she knew for certain was that tonight was the last time Monica Telford would set foot inside her house.
Twelve
At some point during the night, it had stopped raining. Streaks of sunlight trickled through the gaps in the curtains, drawing Monica from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes. The room was alive with little speckles of dust lit up gold, dancing. As she waited for the last traces of sleep to pass, Monica thought back over last night.
It had been easier than she’d expected. The car turning up like that had been a stroke of luck. She’d recognised it immediately. Knew the driver and knew what he was looking for. All over in less than an hour. Then across to Kelly’s while the bruises were good and fresh.
She could have had Kelly there on the sofa if she’d wanted to. She’d seen it in Kelly’s eyes. Another glass of wine, a few moreshared intimacies and anything could have happened. Monica rolled onto her back, finger pressing her clitoris as she pictured it …
* * *
Tuesday morning, Ellen was back in Ger’s office.
‘Had a visitor last night,’ Ellen said. ‘Monica Telford. Think she was trying to imply her father is the mystery stalker.’
‘You believe her?’ Ger asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Ellen said.
In truth, she still wasn’t sure why Monica had called around. Several times she’d thought the artist was coming on to her. Today, without the distorting effect of wine, Ellen wasn’t so sure.
‘I’d like to pay him a visit,’ Ellen continued. ‘Would you be okay if I went to see him today? He lives in Whitstable. I could be there and back before lunchtime.’
‘We’ve got too much on,’ Ger said. ‘A shitload of stuff has come in overnight. It all needs to be picked up today. And you’re in court in an hour?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Our boys were called out to Chloe’s last night as well,’ Ger said. ‘Turned out to be a false alarm. At least, I think it was. The night guys took the call. When they got there, Chloe was in her garden, totally freaking out. No sign of a break-in, but we’ll have to keep a closer eye. I’ll send a
‘I tried,’ Monica said. ‘There was an art teacher who was kind to me. But when I told her what was happening at home, she didn’t believe me. After that, I decided to deal with it myself.’
‘How?’
‘Got a job, saved some money and got the hell away from there. Moved away from home when I was seventeen and haven’t looked back since.’
‘He never tried to find you?’ Ellen asked.
Monica shook her head. ‘The night I left, I stole his car. I was reversing out of the driveway when I saw him. He was roaring at me, telling me he wouldn’t let me go. Banging on the car door,trying to get in. I panicked. Swerved into him and knocked him over. After that night, I never saw him again.’
Monica lifted her glass and drained the rest of her water. When she drank, her lipstick left a red stain on the glass.
A car horn beeped outside the house.
‘Your cab,’ Ellen said.
At the front door, Monica embraced Ellen.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. She held Ellen a moment too long, soft body pressed against Ellen’s, and thrust the lower half of her body into Ellen’s. The movement was so sudden and brief, Ellen couldn’t be sure, afterwards, she hadn’t imagined it. Just as quickly, Monica released her and was running down the path, splashing through puddles and into the waiting cab.
Ellen waited until the cab had turned the corner at the end of the road and disappeared. Only then did she let out the breath she was holding. Relief that Monica was gone. The whole encounter had been deeply uncomfortable. At the end of it all, Ellen was no closer to understanding what Monica Telford was all about. The story about her father should have triggered feelings of sympathy. Instead, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that Monica had been playing with her. Why, Ellen had no idea. Not yet. The one thing she knew for certain was that tonight was the last time Monica Telford would set foot inside her house.
Twelve
At some point during the night, it had stopped raining. Streaks of sunlight trickled through the gaps in the curtains, drawing Monica from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes. The room was alive with little speckles of dust lit up gold, dancing. As she waited for the last traces of sleep to pass, Monica thought back over last night.
It had been easier than she’d expected. The car turning up like that had been a stroke of luck. She’d recognised it immediately. Knew the driver and knew what he was looking for. All over in less than an hour. Then across to Kelly’s while the bruises were good and fresh.
She could have had Kelly there on the sofa if she’d wanted to. She’d seen it in Kelly’s eyes. Another glass of wine, a few moreshared intimacies and anything could have happened. Monica rolled onto her back, finger pressing her clitoris as she pictured it …
* * *
Tuesday morning, Ellen was back in Ger’s office.
‘Had a visitor last night,’ Ellen said. ‘Monica Telford. Think she was trying to imply her father is the mystery stalker.’
‘You believe her?’ Ger asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Ellen said.
In truth, she still wasn’t sure why Monica had called around. Several times she’d thought the artist was coming on to her. Today, without the distorting effect of wine, Ellen wasn’t so sure.
‘I’d like to pay him a visit,’ Ellen continued. ‘Would you be okay if I went to see him today? He lives in Whitstable. I could be there and back before lunchtime.’
‘We’ve got too much on,’ Ger said. ‘A shitload of stuff has come in overnight. It all needs to be picked up today. And you’re in court in an hour?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Our boys were called out to Chloe’s last night as well,’ Ger said. ‘Turned out to be a false alarm. At least, I think it was. The night guys took the call. When they got there, Chloe was in her garden, totally freaking out. No sign of a break-in, but we’ll have to keep a closer eye. I’ll send a
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