Night Watcher (17 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Julie was holding her face up to the hot-air dryer in a not very successful attempt to dry it when she thought she heard her name called, although with the noise the dryer was making she could not be sure. Sighing in exasperation she grabbed a wad of toilet roll from the nearest stall and patted at the excess moisture. The dryer sputtered into silence. Julie inched the door open and peered out. However, there was nothing to be seen other than the empty tables of the restaurant and the dark shadows of the still slumbering store, with only the faint hum of a refrigerator breaking the silence.

She closed the door and returned to the mirror where she applied her face powder and lipstick, which was all the makeup Julie ever wore. It was what Dave had always said he liked about her, that she did not need to paint her face. And yet, he had fallen for Nicole, who plastered herself with the stuff. Sometimes Julie wondered whether she would have held him if she had taken a greater pride in her appearance.

Julie pressed her forehead against the mirror as thoughts of Dave flashed through her mind. What the hell was she doing in Dundee? Adrian was right she should never have come. She should have resisted the compulsion to get even with Nicole and should have buried the past when she buried Dave. Standing back from the mirror she stared at herself. One way or another, she vowed, it had to end. She combed her hair, straightened her skirt and blouse, and left the ladies rest room.

Her office was dark and silent when she entered it, but that suited her because her head was still tight and she did not think she could bear too much light. The packet of paracetamol tempted her when she took it out of the first aid box, but after prodding one tablet out of the blister pack she resisted the urge to take more.

She slumped into her chair, rested her arms on the desk and laid her head on them, letting her mind drift away to happier times. It had been the High School dance where she and Dave had first got together as a couple. The band had been so atrocious she had sat with Dave on the stairs outside the gym hall, giggling every time a wrong chord was played. They had always seemed to be laughing. They found life so much fun. Then, when they had applied for the flat not thinking they would get it, the sheer joy they had felt when they knew it was theirs. Dave had painted it himself to save money, although never having painted anything before, he did not make a very good job of it. But that did not matter, it was their flat. It was after that he had said, ‘Let’s get married. Let’s be respectable.’ She had replied, ‘It’s not necessary.’ But he had said, ‘Don’t argue,’ before picking her up and spinning her around. And so, they had married and for eleven years they had lived happily ever after. And then Nicole had come onto the scene, and everything changed.

At first she had not been suspicious. He was a sales representative so he was away from home a lot. But then his periods away started to get longer and longer until she had confronted him. At first he had denied it, but then, after a time he had told her. He was leaving her for Nicole.

The damnable thing, of course, was that Nicole did not want him. And so they both lost him, although Julie knew that she was the only one who suffered.

Julie lifted her head off her arms. Her eyes were wet. There were so many unshed tears that it was a relief to cry. Maybe if she had cried before, she would have been able to let Dave rest, although she doubted it. But now, in the darkness of her office the tears flowed. She cried for Dave, she cried for herself and she cried for the life she had lost. Maybe it was not too late. Maybe she could start again, learn to live without Dave and without all these gnawing feelings of hate that were eating her up.

Later she would phone Adrian, tell him she was coming home to Edinburgh and then finish it with Nicole. With a bit of luck she would be back home before Christmas.

***

The piercing ring of the doorbell startled Harry out of a restless doze. He had stretched his arm out to silence the alarm clock before he realized where he was. His mind was fuzzy with sleep and for a moment he wondered how he had got here, but then the memory of his early morning start and his concern about Julie crept back into his consciousness with an iritating niggle that something was seriously wrong.

The bell pealed again and he gave himself a shake, stretched out his legs, pushed his feet into his shoes and levered himself out of his chair. ‘All right, all right,’ he grumbled as he limped towards the back door. ‘I’m coming.’

‘You took your time, didn’t you?’ Betty looked him over. ‘God man, you look like death warmed up. Sleeping, were you? Lucky I wasn’t madam, eh?’ She poked him in the ribs. ‘Don’t look so worried, man. I won’t be telling her.’

Harry watched her hurry up the corridor. She was surprisingly light on her feet for someone so large. ‘Got to get the coffee on,’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘Julie will want to take a cup to our friend in the alley.’

Harry opened the door again and peered out. ‘Well I’ll be damned,’ he said, as he looked at the tramp sitting in his usual place.

The tea Harry had made earlier was cold. He looked at his watch. No wonder, he must have slept for an hour, although he had no recollection of dozing off. He felt parched and bone tired. His back ached from his uncomfortable position in the hard chair, his legs were stiff and his corn was throbbing. If it had not been for his pride he thought he might have sat down and cried, but men did not cry, or so his mother had brought him up to believe. The sink in the corner of the room was cluttered and none too clean, but he stuck the kettle under the tap and waited while the water rattled into it. He was careful as he plugged the flex in and flicked the switch; he did not trust the electric wiring down here. You just had to listen to all the odd fizzles and sparking noises coming from the lights to know things were not right. Some day the damned store would burn down, he just hoped that not too many of his friends were inside when it did.

He felt better once he had downed two cups of the strong tea he made for himself. Tar, Babs called it, while Harry responded that he would not drink the cat’s piss she called tea.

As he tended the door, opening it for one member of staff after the other, the thought of Julie was never far from his mind. He half expected her to come trotting along the passage with her handout for the tramp, but she never appeared and he could not leave his post until it was almost nine o’clock and time to open the store.

He detoured the food hall on his way to open up, but there was no sign of Julie. His worries grew.

Forcing himself to smile at the customers, he unlocked the front doors and tipped his hat to those who were waiting.

‘You’re late this morning?’ The military looking man with the well-groomed moustache, but rather shabby suit, snapped at him as he passed through the swing doors. He was always the first customer each morning.

Harry had not quite sussed him out so he usually watched him closely, suspecting he might be a shoplifter. However, this morning, his mind was occupied elsewhere.

On his way back to the food hall he stopped at the restaurant and beckoned to Betty. ‘Seen Julie this morning?’ He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

Betty glanced up. ‘Got a thing for Julie, have you?’ She picked up a cloth and rubbed a tabletop. ‘Wife’ll have something to say about that, I expect.’

Heat crept upwards from Harry’s collar into his face. ‘Not at all,’ he replied, his voice brittle, ‘I just needed to let her know something.’

‘Hmm,’ Betty continued to rub at a non-existent dirty spot. ‘She’s in her office, but I wouldn’t go disturbing her if I was you. She’s got a pig of a headache.’

‘Oh,’ Harry’s voice faltered, weak with relief. ‘I’ll catch her later then.’

He knew Betty was watching him as he walked away, he could almost feel her eyes boring into his back.

***

Ken was late so he did not need to go to the rear entrance; instead he scuttled into the store behind the major, which was his pet name for the old gent who was always first through the doors. He expected the security guard, damned if he could remember his name, to acknowledge him as he passed, but the man seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Ken decided he would speak to him later, because it reflected badly on the store if the staff were falling down on the job.

He glanced about him, ready to change course if he spotted Nicole, but he could not see her anywhere. Maybe she was lying in wait for him upstairs. God forbid. It might be best if he avoided her office, particularly after her phone call last night about leaving Scott. He would have to shake her off because there was no way he was going to leave Claire for her. Claire was class compared with Nicole. He was already thinking of her as a tramp.

The lift was empty when he reached it. He got in and pressed the button to close the doors, but they seemed to take forever. He had not realized he had been holding his breath until he exhaled in a massive sigh. He was not out of the woods yet, and would not be until he got to his office without Nicole seeing him.

The doors creaked open at the executive floor and he looked swiftly up and down the corridor. The coast was clear so he scuttled along to his office, not relaxing until he was inside with the door shut.

‘What a bloody mess,’ he moaned as he slumped into his chair. How on earth was he going to get rid of Nicole? What would he do if she refused to take no for an answer? He could not bear the thought of a scene. But what if she had already told Scott she was leaving him? He was no match for Scott and then there was Claire. How was he going to explain it to Claire?

He would just have to handle it. Ken shuddered. At all costs Claire must not know.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

After three cups of coffee Nicole’s nerve endings jangled and her body woke up. However, her foul temper remained, seething and boiling deep within. ‘Bloody Scott,’ she kept muttering over and over again, ‘who the hell does he think he is?’ She rammed the dirty cup into the sink and kicked the dishwasher. ‘Damned if I’m going to load that bugger,’ she said, watching the cup pirouette in the base of the sink before toppling over and parting company with its handle.

Mounting rage forced Nicole’s heart to thump – the pulse beats, pushing and forcing their way up into her throat until they almost choked her with their intensity. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of the sink trying to tame her rising fury. Eventually she gave way to it and started to throw things. First she threw the dirty crockery Scott had left on the worktop. Once the crockery was exhausted she started on the wall units and threw everything she could touch. Eggs spattered on the wall; pickles and sauces joined them; flour; sugar; and jam helped create a colourful mural. Bread littered the floor; biscuits crunched beneath her feet while washing up liquid created a skating rink. But the thing that gave her most pleasure was spattering Scott’s favourite wine against the back door with a throw that could have launched a ship.

At last she was spent and sank down into a sitting position among the mess covering the floor. That was when she began to laugh. It started with a giggle and gradually grew stronger until she had to wrap her arms round her body to contain herself.

Eventually she wiped the laughter tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands, and holding her sides she hefted herself up to a standing position. She retrieved her briefcase, wiped it with the back of her hand, and then picked her way over the kitchen, slithering and slipping on the combination of flour, egg, washing up liquid and wine. She fought to keep her balance and when she came into reaching distance of the door she leaned over to grasp the handle, easing herself towards it. Sliding sideways she pulled the door open and stepped through to the safety of the corridor. Without a backward look she pulled it shut behind her and left everything.

Stripping off her robe she let if fall on the carpet and headed for the shower. The spray needled her skin, hot and refreshing, and she turned this way and that to allow the water to penetrate every part of her body. Finally she tilted her head back and lifted her face into the spray, enjoying the feel of the water dribbling down her forehead and cheeks, through her hair and over her shoulders. The hot water washed away the tightness in her muscles as well as the goo that covered her.

Feeling refreshed she wrapped herself in a towel and riffled through the clothes in her wardrobe. She selected a white blouse and a black jacket and skirt which was smart in its severity. Black tights and high-heeled shoes completed her ensemble. Today, she decided, she would be professional even though her nerves were on edge after everything that had happened: the dead animals, the sense of being watched, Scott’s scepticism and the disbelief of the police. Damn them all to hell. It was up to her to impress on whoever was doing these awful things to her, that it did not affect her one little bit.

***

A myriad of small sounds: the patter of feet, the soft swing of a door, the hum of the lift, the rattle of the trolleys being stacked in readiness for customers, all of these sent messages to Julie that the store was coming to life.

She eased her body out of the chair trying to ignore the sharp pangs piercing her head. A coffee would be nice and Betty would expect her to appear at the restaurant as usual. Better not disappoint her.

The door creaked slightly when she pushed it open and the sound, which did not usually bother her, stabbed into her brain until she felt it would splinter into little pieces. She winced and crept out, into the food hall. Looking straight ahead she marched in the direction of the restaurant. Reaching it, she slumped onto one of the plastic chairs. Already she realized it had been a mistake to leave her office.

‘Godalmighty,’ Betty’s voice, sounding unnaturally loud, made Julie shrink into the seat.

‘Can you speak a little quieter,’ she muttered. It hurt when she looked up so she kept her gaze on the tabletop.

‘Must have been some night you had,’ Betty patted her shoulder.

Julie winced as the blows vibrated up into her head.

Betty sat down opposite her, ‘You look like death. Rough night, huh?’

Julie nodded. Pain stabbed at her temples and her eyes filled with tears.

Betty patted her hand, ‘Can’t let the staff see you like that so you pop back to your office and I’ll bring you the strongest coffee you’ve ever had. That’ll sort you out and in an hour or two the hangover will be a memory.’

Julie shuffled back to her office. She needed to phone Adrian, tell him what she had decided, but she would do it later, after the coffee.

It was two more paracetamol tablets, several coffees and another hour later before Julie felt able to face anyone. She still had not phoned Adrian. Later, she thought, maybe after I tell Nicole I’m leaving.

Customers clustered in the aisles inspecting and commenting on what was on offer, but the noise no longer impacted on her as it had done earlier and she was able to smile at them without pain.

Debbie, the assistant with the thick spectacles gave her a scared look as she passed, however, Julie smiled and said, ‘You’re doing well, Debbie.’ The girl beamed and scuttled off to find some more work to do, maybe she wasn’t too bright, Julie thought, but at least she was showing some keenness now.

After Julie finished her inspection of the food hall she walked to the restaurant, it was time for another cup of coffee. Several of the tables were occupied, but Julie found a seat at the back. Over to her left an elderly lady with blue hair stared into her teacup to avoid looking at the man with the military moustache who was trying to chat her up.

‘D’you think we should interfere?’ Betty nodded in the direction of the couple as she placed two cups on the table and sat down.

Julie shook her head. ‘Better to leave them. It’s not as if she’s a kid. I’m sure she’ll be able to sort him out.’

‘How you feeling now?’ Betty stopped looking at the couple.

‘Better,’ Julie smiled. ‘The headache has stopped thumping and I’m more like myself.’ She took a sip of the coffee. ‘Ah, this is good. By the way you weren’t kidding when you said the coffee you’d bring me this morning was strong. It nearly took the top off my mouth.’

Betty grinned. ‘I haven’t looked after an alcoholic husband for years without knowing what to do.’

Julie looked over the rim of her cup. ‘You never told me that before.’

‘Wasn’t any need before, was there. It’s no business of the buggers who work in here and the less folks know about my private life the better pleased I am.’

‘You don’t mind me knowing then?’

‘Naw, you’re different Julie. I know you won’t spread it around.’

Julie sipped some more of her coffee. ‘Nicole hasn’t been looking for me, has she?’

‘Haven’t seen her come in yet.’ Betty frowned. ‘It’s not like her though, she’s usually always here trying to catch folks out.’

***

Fingers of wind combed through Nicole’s hair as her sports car zoomed along the country road. Most days she tied her hair back with a scarf, but today she felt reckless and did not care, enjoying the feeling of abandonment it gave her. The laugh bubbled up into her throat and she threw her head back to shriek into the wind. There was no one to hear her and even if there had been she would not have cared.

Today would be the beginning of a new life, she told herself. Scott could go fuck himself. She would see her solicitor, change the locks on the doors and that would be that. She should have made the decision long ago.

When she reached the store she parked in front of the entrance even though it was a no parking zone. She slid out of the car and marched into the store, throwing her car keys at the assistant on the perfume counter. ‘Find that lazy sod of a security man,’ she demanded, ‘and tell him to park my car.’ Without a backward glance she strode to the lift and pressed the button, tapping her fingers on the doors until they opened.

The executive corridor was empty when she left the lift, although she could hear the muted voices of the office girls and the churning sound of the photocopier. Turning away from the noises she walked along the corridor, stopping for a moment outside Ken’s office, but there was no response to her tap. Strange, she thought, when she found his door was locked, maybe he’s having a day off. A smile crossed her face as she continued on to her own office. Ken knew she was ditching Scott for him so he would probably be consoling Claire who would be distraught at the thought of Ken leaving her. She shrugged her shoulders everything was working out perfectly.

Her hand turned the doorknob and she entered the room. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, she screamed.