WHO FOLLOWS: a gripping, dramatic, intense and suspenseful thriller (2 page)

Chapter 4

Oh my goodness, I’m quite overcome, my hands are shaking and I have a quivering in my gut. In some strange way it is pleasant, a little like childish excitement on Christmas Eve. I need a stiff drink.

In truth the day did not go quite the way that I had planned. On leaving the house my intention was to make this the day that we actually met, the day that we started our lives together. It made sense to arrive early and thereby be in situ by the time Humming Bird arrived for her lunch.

I was horrified to find there was a nasty common family sitting at our table. I feel quite justified now calling it our table. A horrible half-dressed woman with tattoos on her shoulder sat beside two really dreadful children. The children ate pastries and played with electronic games while their mother screeched into her mobile telephone. I was disturbed and perplexed and could do no more than wait across the street in Waterstones. Thankfully it wasn’t long before the nasty creatures left and before there was a chance for any more invasions I hurried across to Costa.

The mess was appalling. There were crumbs on the table, cups and plates lay about and grease and debris littered the chairs and the floor. Well of course it was absolutely unthinkable that I should take the seat and I was certain that my angel wouldn’t sit amongst that debris. What to do. After a moment’s thought I took the plunge and seated myself at the square table adjacent to the “favourite”. It was possible of course that this could work to my advantage. Being the only other vacant place it would be impossible for her to sit anywhere else. Oh yes I thought, my very lucky day in the end.

I was beside myself with anticipation. I wasn’t nervous, simply excited. The outcome was of course a foregone conclusion. I did want to make sure that the first meeting went well. To that end I mulled over the possibilities for my opening gambit.

As the time went on I began to worry that maybe she wouldn’t come at all but a few minutes later than usual I saw her rounding the corner. She headed for the disgusting mess that was her usual spot. My stomach was turning somersaults and I have to admit that my palms were damp I was in such a fever of anticipation. Discretely I pushed the spare chair at my table a little outwards to make it easier for her to join me, a subliminal invitation if you will.

I freely admit that the next few moments plunged me into an agony of disappointment. She saw the detritus at her usual spot and I readied myself. Smiling in a friendly open way I waited for her to approach and make the request to join me. But no, imperiously she raised a hand and waved to the girl inside indicating the state of the table and chairs and then she stood aside as the mess was cleared away.

I was quite turned around by this development. My plans were now in some disarray as I was already seated and served. It was impossible that I should deliberately walk across to join her. It was vital that she had joined me, that’s obvious isn’t it?

So in the face of what appeared to be a total disaster why should I now be so excited and overcome with passion? Well, she was wearing the green dress ensemble again with the gorgeous cream shawl. In order to reserve her seat she draped the shawl over the back of the chair and then went to collect her coffee. She had never done that before, it was a day of surprise and change all around.

I had to be quick. The decision was instant as I acted without hesitation. I left my table and walked without pause past the seat. As I passed I pulled the shawl to me and tucked it into my jacket. I have it now, here in my hand. The sensible part of me denies it but I am convinced that it is still warm from the touch of her skin. It smells of her, it is redolent of her beauty. I have it here now against my cheek the softness caressing my face as just a few short hours ago it caressed her arm. A prize, my treasure.

Chapter 5

It is so true that sometimes one has to make a sacrifice for the greater good.

I have slept for the past week with the cream shawl on my bed. I didn’t have it lying beside my head on the same pillow, that would have creased and disturbed it and made it smell of me. No, I smoothed it over the spare pillow beside me. At night as I have drifted off to sleep I have been able to stroke and caress the soft fine fabric and the smooth fringes. During the day I kept it safely folded in a vacuum sealed bag to preserve the faint perfume clinging to its folds. Oh what a treasure it has been. After a week though the perfume is all but dissipated and although still serving as a memento it is of less value to me and I’ve decided that it could be put it to better use.

I did some small investigation on the net in a calmer frame of mind than the first day that I saw her. With a more logical approach it took less than ten minutes to find the web site. At my fingertips I had the telephone number and details of Humming Bird, Interior Design and the name and details of the Director. This was my way in. Returning the shawl would deprive myself of that small pleasure in the night but it could take me into the very presence of my heart’s desire.

I took it with me, carefully protected in a linen pillow case and walked down to the old Victorian building. My heart pounded with a passion hard to describe. I was about to meet and speak to my angel.

After ringing the bell a faint scratchy voice answered, I announced quite simply “I have your shawl.” I realised afterwards that it may not have been my dear Humming Bird and all could have gone wrong but luck was with me.

“Oh, how wonderful. Come on up.” She didn’t know how those few words made my heart sing. The door clicked allowing entrance to her sphere.

The Humming Bird office is on the third floor. The building is well maintained and smart. The clouded glass window carries the legend, Humming Bird Interior Design and underneath Hannah Bird Director.

I pushed open the heavy wooden door and walked into a small reception area. As the door closed behind me she came from her office. Smiling and holding out her hand she could not possibly know how she was affecting me. My heart pounded and my head swam. I took her hand, the skin was soft and smooth, I felt the tiny bones that I had watched so often flicking at the cigarettes and lifting the coffee cups to her lips. It was surreal to be so close, to be touching her.

I held out the little parcel, “I found this on the street, just by the corner. When I enquired at Costa they said that they thought it was yours. I haven’t had the chance to come this way until now.”

“That is so very kind of you to bother.” Her voice was soft and mellow, she spoke calmly and all about her was perfect as I always knew it would be. She drew the shawl from its bag and threw it around her shoulders.

“I am so pleased to have this back. It was a gift from a very dear friend. I stupidly left it on the back of a chair outside the coffee shop and it must have blown off and down the street. Thank you so very much Miss or is it Mrs erm?”

“Jobson, Amy Jobson, and you are very welcome, it was no trouble at all. I am happy that you have it back.”

“Will you let me take you for a cup of coffee as a thank you, or lunch how about that? It is just about time for me to break for an hour. Would you let me treat you to lunch in the Bistro on the corner?”

All my dreams have come true. We have met and now we are to have our first meal together. My cup really does run over with happiness.

Chapter 6

She sits opposite to me, the sunlight shining on the highlights in her hair. The spun golden strands dance at the sides of her head. Her eyes, an unusual grey and blue mix, are large and clear. The skin at the corners crinkles slightly, she smiles often and the smile lights her eyes and imprints the skin of her face. I adore that about her, that she carries the proof of her good nature for the world to witness. Her lips are full and curve upwards slightly at the corners as she talks to me of incidentals. There are two quite large dark freckles just to the side of her nose and one more on the side of her chin. Her skin is smooth and fine. She is a living masterpiece.

As we wait for our meal my glance is drawn to her fascinating hands, they are long and slender and the skin stretches tautly over those impossibly fragile bones. Her nails are short but not as neat as one would have expected, there is evidence that she chews them occasionally – so the elegance of the first day was false. I find this tiny fault endearing, a sign of deep emotions, worries maybe. If she would only let me I would take care of all her worries, calm all her fears. My own little Humming Bird, if she knew how she affected me now in this ordinary, rather boring place. If she could only discern how my heart pounds and flutters and my hands are damp with the excitement of being so close. At this thought I glance at my own hands lying as hers are atop the wooden table. My nails are manicured and neat but ah how dark, how rough my skin when compared to hers, how plain and ordinary they look. I am ashamed of their ordinariness and fold them on my lap out of sight where they belong.

I am so overcome with the moment that I have let her do all the talking. Now I think she is wondering about me and my silence. I drag my thoughts back, what was she saying just now before my mind wandered to the perfection of her hands. Ah yes, the workaday world, how incongruous to talk of such stuff with her but I must.

“My work, oh rather boring I’m afraid. Computer stuff, web design and such like. Not as glamorous as interior design must be.”

“Oh I should think that it is very interesting, all jobs have their boring side of course and I have to say that parts of mine are very humdrum and dull.”

“Is it your own business?” That was it, those few words were the end of joy.

“No, not really I am in partnership with my husband.” The world spun, the day was dulled and for one moment my mind was an empty void. I had never for one moment even considered that she may have a husband. I realise now it was stupid of me but such was my belief in the rightness of our future together that I could imagine no other person would have claim to her.

Chapter 7

The beauty is gone from the day. The warmth of the sun through the window is chilled and the aroma of food cooking, which only moments ago caused me to salivate, now causes mild nausea and disgust. I want to leave. It is a struggle for me to sit on this hard wooden chair. I notice for the first time that there is a greasy spot on the wooden arm and salt has been spilled which no-one has cleaned from the table top.

She is chatting still, now I see that her arms wave and gesticulate unnecessarily to accompany her dialogue. I can form no rational thoughts. My mind is full of this new and devastating knowledge. She has a husband, she is a wife. Another person has shared and will share her most private moments. He has held her body and caressed it, kissed those lips which only moments before I had admired. I can’t let my mind walk that pathway, it will drive me to distraction. I nod and smile and try to cover my confusion but after a little while she pauses in her chatter.

“My dear are you quite well, you have suddenly gone terribly pale. Can I have them fetch you a drink of water. Do you need some air?”

I shake my head and raise my hand to fend off the kind gesture which, if allowed, will call forth tears I know it.

“I’m fine really, a momentary dizziness, it’s nothing. I am probably hungry. I wonder how long the food will be.”

I am rescued by the waitress delivering a plate of sawdust for me to struggle through. It is supposed to be a chicken and pasta dish. The chicken is dry and overcooked and the pasta is badly prepared but I force it into my mouth and swallow it hardly chewed. I drink my wine, I don’t normally drink alcohol at lunchtime but this was my celebration and it deserved the sparkling recognition we were to give it. My head is floating unattached above my shoulders and my arms and legs are made of rubber.

What the hell, I give way to the sensations and allow myself to watch from afar as she twirls pasta and breaks bread to dip into the bloody sauce. She has broken my soul and made worthless my life. She has no idea and so talks on enjoying this small deviation from her normal day. A couple of times she looks concerned and flashes a questioning glance. I force myself to react with a smile and a raised glass and so the occasion passes. I am in a torturous hell where my heart screams and cracks unseen and unremarked upon by my assassin.

Despite my efforts she realises that all is not well with me. She reaches across the table and lays a gentle hand over mine. What is left of my heart fractures into a thousand pieces.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong? Please let’s just leave, you are dreadfully pale. Let me take you home.”

I nod and so allow her to pay the bill with only the smallest of dispute for appearances sake and we leave. As we reach the step she takes my arm and steadies me. This touch should fill me with ecstasy but it scorches my skin. This hand holds his, this hand caresses his body and look now, this hand does not wear his ring though surely it should!

Chapter 8

Her kindness is limitless. She closes her office, drives me home and supports me with a steadying arm as we walk up my narrow path. I fumble with the rock hiding the key and she takes it from me to unlock the door.

It is cool and welcoming in my home and now she is here. Her perfume is in the air of these rooms. Slipping off her shoes at the door she patters to the kitchen, bare skin slapping on ceramic. The rattle of the water into the kettle intrudes as I sit at the table stunned by her being here. The small slam of my cupboard doors, chinking and ringing of crockery, the shush of the fridge and then the aroma of brewing coffee. Her presence here in my space heightens every sense. The smell of the brew is overwhelming as the coffee steams in the small cup she places before me. There is a biscuit from the tin placed on the saucer.

“Here some sugar, caffeine. This will help, you should eat. Drink the coffee.”

It scalds my tongue and throat, I gasp.

“Oh God, sorry I should have put some cold in. Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes don’t worry. Please don’t worry. You are being so kind, there really is no need I am not ill, truly I am not ill.”

“But you went so pale, I thought for a moment you were going to faint. Do you have diabetes maybe, something like that? You should check, you know, see the doctor. It’s best to find out. Just in case you know.”

“Truly my dear I am really fine. To be perfectly honest I had some bad news and I think that it simply hit me harder than is reasonable.”

“Oh, you poor thing. Nothing too horrible was it? I am sorry, and you being so kind, bringing back my shawl. You could have sent it you know. I really do appreciate what you did.”

“No, truly I am fine. I am simply being rather silly and dramatic for no reason. Thank you for bringing me home and making the drink and really just for being so patient.”

Her eyes light in a smile and she bends to wrap her arms around me in a tender hug. “You know, I really like you. I think that we could be friends.” The blush creeps into her cheeks wiping years from her face and she grins. “Oh, would you listen to me, I sound like a kid. It’s just that you are so friendly and I feel so very comfortable with you. It seems as though we have known each other for years. I can’t believe that we’ve only just met.”

“Well, I have to say that pleases me and I know just what you mean. I would really consider it a privilege if you would let me return the favour. Well actually if you would let me make amends for today’s rather spoiled lunch. Do you think it would be alright for us to have dinner sometime perhaps? Will that cause any sort of problem for you at home?”

“Home?”

“Yes, you know with your husband. Or maybe there are children, baby sitters to arrange.”

“Oh no, sorry I didn’t mean to give the impression, well the thing is we aren’t together any more. Divorced. But the business, well that was easier to just leave things like that. We are friends, well sort of and no there are no children. I would love to have dinner with you Amy, I really would.”

My world glows with rainbows as it begins to spin again. She smiles at me and sips the cooling coffee.