The One You Fear (5 page)

‘No. Not since I told him to get lost, what, maybe three days ago, the last time he phoned me up. Has he been bothering you again?’

‘He followed me onto the bus this morning.’

Will was aghast. ‘What? That’s terrible – he’s stalking you. He’s really stepped over the line. I hope you told him where to go.’

‘I did. But then he told me something.’

Will didn’t like the sound of this. ‘Go on.’

She cleared her throat. ‘I don’t quite know how to say this,’ she began. ‘Err… when… you…’

‘Lizzy, you’re really worrying me.’

‘He’s spoken with Peter Myers,’ she blurted out. ‘In the past week – to gather information for the article.’

Suddenly Will thought he knew what this was all about, and his stomach started to drop. ‘Did he tell him about what I did? He told Adrian Spencer about me and Stephen Myers?’

They had all wondered why Peter Myers had not told the police about Will’s involvement in his son’s death. One theory was that he was just waiting for the right time. Another, that for as long as he held on to the secret, he felt he would still have some power over them. Will didn’t really doubt that one day he would have to answer to the police for what he had done, but why now, when things were going so well for him?

‘It’s not that,’ Lizzy said. ‘I don’t think he knows anything about what happened.’

Will was hugely relieved. ‘Then what is it about?’

Again Lizzy paused ominously, extinguishing his relief. ‘Those years ago, when Stuart called you around to his flat, after he’d killed Stephen Myers, did you see his body?’

Will was taken aback by the question. ‘Well, yes, of course I did, you know, I helped to get rid of… it.’

‘Sorry, Will, I understand that. What I meant was, did you see his face – are you sure it was him?’

Again Will was dumbstruck. ‘What’s this all about, Lizzy?’

Lizzy seemed exasperated. ‘Just answer me, Will. Did you see his face?’

‘No. Not properly. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Stuart dealt with it mostly, and I helped to carry him once he was wrapped up in the bed sheets. By then he was covered.’

This didn’t seem to be the answer Lizzy wanted to hear. ‘But what about when you got to the canal. You removed him from the sheets then, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but again, I didn’t look directly at him. I saw his body, yes, but not his face. It was him, though. It was Stephen Myers.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because the police would have checked that, wouldn’t they? And his family, he would have been identified by them. Why would you think it might not have been him?’

Lizzy swallowed and looked Will straight in the eyes. Again there was that haunted look. ‘Because Peter Myers told me that Stephen Myers is still alive.’

5

Dan and Emma spent a good hour walking barefoot by the sea, carrying their shoes, letting the warm waves lap over their feet. It was so relaxing and it felt a world away from the hustle and bustle of London.

‘I
am
sorry,’ Dan said, turning to face Emma and taking both her hands in his. ‘I feel terrible for questioning you about Stuart. I do trust you. But I’ve been feeling so afraid that you might have changed how you feel about me. I guess this whole experience has shaken me up more than I thought, and it’s made me question things that I’ve always taken for granted. It feels like the ground has shifted, like an earthquake, and it still hasn’t quite settled. Do you understand?’

Emma nodded. She knew exactly what he meant, and in fact it was a huge relief to find out that she wasn’t the only one who felt as if the world had been de-stabilised. ‘Like aftershocks.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s it, exactly – aftershocks. Just when I think I’m okay, another one comes along, and knocks me sideways. I realise then that everything isn’t quite back to normal.’

‘I know what you mean.’ She summoned the courage to ask the question she’d been desperate to ask for the past hour. ‘The reason you didn’t want to go ahead and re-arrange the wedding too soon – was it really because you felt unsure about how I felt about Stuart?’

Dan pressed his toes into the wet sand. ‘Partly – I’m sorry, Em.’

‘
It’s okay, I understand.
I appreciate your honesty.’

‘I should have spoken to you about it sooner. But it never really felt like the right time. And I didn’t intend to tell you here, on holiday, but it just came out.’

‘Well, I’m glad that it did. Because now we’ve been able to deal with it.’

Dan nodded. They looked at each other for a few moments, and then touched lips, holding the kiss as three children splashed past them, shouting with delight. ‘I do love you, Emma Holden.’

Emma looked into his eyes. ‘I love you too.’

They kissed again, and held each other close. Emma could feel the comforting sound of Dan’s heart beating.

‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ Dan said. ‘You remember you mentioned the open-air theatre, carved into the cliff-side?’

‘The Minack Theatre, yes.’

‘That’s it. Well, they’re currently running a production of Romeo and Juliet, and I’ve got us tickets for this evening.’

‘Cool, that’s great, my favourite play!’

‘I know,’ Dan smiled. ‘I do listen to what you say, you know. Well, most of the time, anyway.’

‘Thanks, it’s going to be great.’ Emma had played Juliet in her school play, many years ago. The fact that it was such an enjoyable experience was one of the reasons she had decided to go into acting, so the play held a special place in her heart.

***

The Minack Theatre was, according to the Sat Nav, about half an hour’s drive around the coast from their apartment. But, underestimating the time it would take to negotiate the unfamiliar, twisting Cornish roads, and the steep narrow lanes, they arrived later than planned, just ten minutes before the performance was due to begin. The cliff-top car park was already virtually full, and they were lucky to squeeze into a small space between two poorly parked cars. They’d already eaten at a wonderful, highly recommended burger restaurant in St. Ives, so at least they didn’t have to worry about food.

‘Amazing view,’ Emma said, as they queued to enter the theatre. Off towards the left were magnificent sheer-face cliffs that dropped down towards a long, sandy beach. The light was fading, casting shadows across the cliff-face, which made the sight even more spectacular.

Dan looked across towards the cliffs. ‘From what I’ve read, I think it’s even better from inside the theatre itself.’

He was right. The theatre, and the view it afforded, was amazing. Nestling into the partly excavated cliff, the theatre made the most of what nature offered. There were no chairs; instead the audience perched on stone terracing in an amphitheatre design, interspersed with beautiful floral displays. In front of them the sea spread out like a huge canvas, framing the small stage at the edge of the cliff-side in darkening blue.

Most of the audience had already taken their seats, and there weren’t any spaces below halfway to the front. Emma took her seat alongside Dan towards the back of the amphitheatre, on the left-hand side, squeezing in between two other couples. She looked across at the view. ‘Wow. It would be so amazing to perform here. And it would make a fantastic wedding venue too.’

‘Seriously, you’d like to get married here?’

‘Yeah, why not – can you imagine how spectacular the wedding photos would be, with that backdrop?’

A few minutes later the final call went out, and the play began. As night descended, the atmosphere grew to even greater levels. It was certainly the most stunning arena Emma had ever seen. She thought again about the idea of moving down to Cornwall. Maybe it wasn’t such a crazy notion after all – the way she felt at that moment, she could happily work on this stage for the rest of her days. Who needed the West End when you could perform in such an amazing natural setting?

It was just after the interval that Emma noticed the man looking back up towards where they were sitting. It was impossible to see his face properly, because he was some way down the terracing, and it was just too dark. But without doubt, every so often, he would turn around and look towards where Emma and Dan were. The first few times she had noticed him, he seemed to be scanning the audience. But later, he appeared to have found what he was searching for, for his eyes stayed fixed in their direction. Of course he wasn’t looking at her, she knew that really, but it certainly seemed like it. She found her attention drifting away from the play as she began to check periodically to see what the man was doing. Mostly he was facing forward, towards the stage, but sometimes he was looking back. It was beginning to freak her out. She didn’t want to speak during the performance – it was a pet hate of all actors – so she resisted saying anything to Dan, who seemed engrossed in the play. Instead she pulled her jacket tightly around her, as the temperature continued to drop and an increasingly chilly sea wind whirled around them. Dan did notice that movement, and responded by wrapping an arm around her.

Soon Emma forgot about the man and began to lose herself once more in the action onstage. By the time the play finished, she had forgotten all about him. The audience stood as one to applaud the cast; it had been an impressive staging of the play, and the standing ovation was well deserved. The lights came on and everyone began their slow progress towards the exit at the top of the amphitheatre.

‘I’m just nipping to the toilet,’ Emma said, as they neared the exits.

‘Me too,’ Dan replied. ‘See you over there.’ He gestured towards the small shop, off to their right.

Emma nodded, and headed towards the nearby toilets. There was a significant queue. At first she decided to stay and join the dozens of people standing outside the door. But after a few minutes without movement, she began to get impatient and wondered whether there were any other facilities. She found an usher, a late middle-aged woman, who was standing guard by one of the railings.

‘Excuse me, are there any other toilet facilities apart from the ones over there? The queue’s really long.’

‘There aren’t any more public toilets,’ said the woman slightly hesitantly, ‘but sometimes we let people use the staff facilities. It should be okay. They’re just over there.’ She pointed to the far right side of the arena. ‘They’re not signed as toilets. There are only two cubicles, but it should be quieter. Just go through the blue door.’

‘Thanks.’

The staff toilets were down in a quiet corner of the theatre, already emptied of people, many of whom had already made their way back to their cars. Emma felt slightly guilty when she saw there was no queue, and she could just walk straight in – the people she had left by the public convenience would surely still be waiting. But maybe others had asked too, as whilst she was in the cubicle, she heard the outer door open and close. Now someone else was present she felt slightly unnerved, and wanted to return to the crowds, where Dan would probably already be waiting.

She was just about to flush the chain when the shoes appeared underneath the cubicle door. She caught her breath. They were men’s shoes, she was sure of it.

What on earth?

She froze, afraid to move or even breathe. There was a man standing right outside the cubicle, so close to the door that his shoes were peaking underneath.

Then she thought – the staff toilets were probably unisex. As the woman had said, there was no sign on the door, nothing to indicate men or women, so that was probably the case.

But still, why was the person standing right outside? The cubicle next door was free. And anyway, if you were waiting, who would stand so close? It certainly wasn’t socially acceptable behaviour.

She stared at the shoes, willing the person to leave, wondering whether she should say something.

The person stayed rooted to the spot and Emma’s heart-rate quickened.

Maybe one of the workers had seen her enter the toilets, and was waiting to tell her off for using staff facilities.

‘She said it was okay for me to come in here,’ Emma said, her voice full of nerves. ‘The other toilets were busy, so she said it was okay to use these.’

No response came. The shoes didn’t even move a millimetre. Emma regretted opening her mouth. What if it wasn’t a member of staff? She had just given away the fact that she was a woman.

Then she remembered about the man in the audience.

‘Please, go,’ she mouthed, ‘please.’

What if he
had
been watching her? What if he’d followed her out towards the top of the theatre, then to the public toilets, and now to the staff facilities?

The thought seemed ludicrous – there was no reason to believe he had even been looking at her. But here she was, trapped in this cubicle, with an unidentified man just inches away.

She pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket, and then summoned up the courage to speak again. This time she suppressed the nerves, holding her voice steady. ‘If you don’t leave, right now, I’m going to call my boyfriend. He’ll be down here in seconds.’