Followed Page 3
I peek at him from the corner of my eye, he catches me looking and grins.
‘Don't worry Mum, I'll be alright.’
I smile weakly, turn the radio on and focus on the road ahead. Fortunately, there’s not much traffic and we’re soon at the airport.
After completing all the necessary documentation, Jamie is taken through the security gate, he doesn’t seem at all bothered, in fact I think he’s enjoying it. Tears fill my eyes - he looks so small – I give him a wave and he’s gone.
Twenty minutes later the plane takes off. I leave the airport, locate my car and drive home. On the way back my phone rings, I ignore it, I’m driving, they can leave a message. I wonder if Jamie's alright, he didn't seem worried about going by himself. I convince myself he's okay, he has his phone; he can always call me.
When I arrive back at the house it seems empty. A PCs in the front garden as usual, and the other one's round the back. I’ll give Mum a call to make sure she’ll be at the airport early.
She says not to worry, stop thinking about him sitting on the plane all by himself, the flight doesn’t take that long, by the time he’s had something to eat it’ll be time to land. Then I remember, someone called, I look at my phone, there’s a message from Nick, he wants me to call him.
‘Sorry, Mum, I have to go, talk to you later.’
‘Alright, please take care of yourself.’
‘I will Mum, you too.’
How on earth did Nick get my number? I listen to the message, his voice sounds deeper than I remember, stronger, more confident. Well of course it would, the last time I saw him he was only seventeen.
Tossing my phone onto the small garden table, I sit on one of the old benches contemplating my plan of action. I’ll contact the police first, find out if they’ve caught whoever did this, and then I’ll…
My phone rings, it's Nick.
‘Beth, how are you?’
‘Nick, what a surprise, how are you?’
‘I'm okay, but more to the point, how are you?’
Of course, he knows all about it, either Mum told him or he heard about it through the grapevine, news travels fast in Evesly.
‘Nick, it's very nice of you to call but you really don't have to worry, there are two police officers guarding the house.’
‘Okay, but I still want to see you, we've got a lot of catching up to do.’
Seeing Nick is the last thing I need right now. ‘I'm sorry Nick but it’s not a good time - I'll give you a call.’
‘Beth, I know all about it, your mother told me, I know you were attacked; I want to help. Can I come over tonight, after work?’
I had a feeling he might know about the fire, but how does he know I was attacked? Only Helen knows and she wouldn't go blabbing her mouth off to Mum.
‘Sorry Nick, I must go - I'll call you later.’
My mind's racing, how did Mum find out, only the police know and the station manager - then I have a thought. Oh no!
Grabbing my purse, I run the few yards to the local shop. Nothing much has changed, the old black cat's still fast asleep under the newspaper stand as usual. Inside, next to the till are the free local newspapers. The guy behind the counter gives me a strange look as I take one from the top of the pile. Is there something inside about me? Am I being paranoid? He goes back to serving kids sweets, I go outside.
A small heading on the second page catches my eye.
WOMAN ATTACKED IN EVESLY
I quickly scan through it then stop - they've printed my name, now everyone knows. One of Mum’s mates must have seen this and called her, now she's wondering why I didn't tell her.
Back at home I sit re-reading the article, then my phone rings - it's the police. Shit, I forgot I was supposed to see them today. I tell them I'll come tomorrow - they say okay.
There's a tap at the door, then another. I sit with my arms on the table hoping they'll go away, but they don’t. There's another tap, this time much louder.
I trip over one of Jamie's shoes as I go to open the door. ‘Yes?’ I bark, flinging it open.
‘Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt - but as I was in the area…’
He must be selling something. He's quite tall, dark hair, tanned, very well built. I shake my head and mumble something about being busy and start closing the door.
‘Beth. It’s me, don’t you recognize me?’
Then I know who it is, but he's changed, really changed. ‘Nick, I didn't recognize you – what have you done to yourself?’
He laughs and stands looking at me. ‘You haven't changed much, your hair is longer, but it suits you.’
We stand staring at each other for a minute then I laugh. ‘It's so lovely to see you, do you want to come in?’
He nods. ‘Yes, I'd love too.’
As we pass the blackened living room door he pauses slightly. I ignore it and walk into the kitchen. ‘It's such a lovely day, let's sit outside in the garden.’
The police officer at the end of the garden sees us coming and quickly stubs out his cigarette. I point to one of the benches next to the table, Nick sits down.
‘I was just going to cook a pizza, are you hungry?’
He nods. ‘Sounds great, can I help?’
‘No, it won’t take long.’
I shove the pizza in the microwave then realize I didn't ask him what he'd like to drink so I open the window. ‘Nick, what would you like to drink, beer or coke?’
He looks up from his phone. ‘Beer would be great, are you sure I can't help?’
I smile and shake my head. ‘No, stay there, enjoy the garden.’
I start rummaging around in the fridge but there’s no beer. Maybe he’d like some wine? Then I spy a bottle of San Miguel in with the salad stuff, pop it open and take it outside. He’s chatting to the police officer, but as soon as he sees me, he stops, walks over and takes the beer.
I go back inside and watch him from the window. I still can't get over the change in him. For some reason I feel a bit awkward, I haven’t seen him for years. This isn’t the Nick I remember, the shy skinny boy with the doleful brown eyes.
The microwave tings. I swing round.
Pizza's ready. Here goes.
‘I hope you like mozzarella and pesto,’ I say, placing it on the table and slicing it with the cutter.
There's a slight smile on his face. ‘It's one of my favourites.’
I’m not really hungry but I take a slice and bite into it.
Suddenly he reaches over and puts his hand over mine.
‘Beth, I want to help. If you remember anything about the guy who attacked you, please tell me.’
I nearly choke on my pizza; he hands me his beer. What did Mum say he does for a living? I'm sure he studied law but that was a long time ago.
‘I'm a DI a detective inspector,’ he says, as if reading my mind. ‘Didn't your mother tell you?’
Now this has shocked me, and he knows it.
He laughs and carries on talking. ‘I work for the police. I studied law, don't you remember? I always found criminal law interesting and with my new job...’ He stops to light his cigarette, inhales deeply and carries on. ‘I get to see things first-hand, if you know what I mean.’
I nod. ‘Yes, but I never thought you'd end up working for the police.’
He takes out a packet of cigarettes and offers me one.
I shake my head. ‘No thanks.’
My mind's racing, he's a detective, it would be easy for him to find out about my case - the attack, the fire. Maybe he already knows?
‘Nick, let's go inside, I'll make some coffee.’
‘Sure.’ He stubs out his cigarette and follows me into the kitchen. Whilst I'm filling up the kettle, he picks up a framed photo of Mum, me and Jamie. ‘So, when did you get divorced?’ he asks, looking closely at the photo.
Mum really has been busy - I wonder how much she told him. ‘It's just going through. It will probably take a couple more weeks.’
Placing the phot
o carefully back on the sideboard, he suddenly smiles. ‘Then you'll be a free woman.’
‘Yes, I suppose so, I haven't really thought about it - it happened so quickly.’ Why am I telling him this, I haven't seen him for years, he's looking at me so strangely.
‘Don't worry, Beth, I'm sure you'll be alright, I was married for a couple of years, but it didn't work out either, not as long as you of course.’ He glances back at the photo. ‘Your son has green eyes just like yours, how old is he?’
‘He's nearly twelve.’
He stands watching me, he looks older, more confident but there's something else.
‘You know the last thing I heard about you was that you'd married a Greek, you were having a ball in Athens.’ He stops and frowns. ’Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I didn't think, how stupid of me.’
‘Don't worry, you haven't upset me, I may not look it, but I've toughened up over the years.’
He raises an eyebrow and laughs. ‘I don't think so, you still look the same as you did when you were seventeen, or was it eighteen when you went back to Greece?’
I laugh. ‘You'd be surprised Nick; appearances can be deceptive.’
He looks up in surprise, I laugh. If only he knew - he'd probably run a mile, I've changed so much, even I don't recognize myself sometimes. Then I think of my Glock 17 stored away with most of my things in a locked room in our apartment in Athens. I thought I'd be safe here, but now I'm not so sure.
‘Milk and sugar, Nick?’
‘Black, no sugar, thanks.’
He sits down at the table, I bring over the coffee. ‘Nick, about my case, do you think these incidents are connected?’
He's just about to say something, when his phone rings. ‘Sorry, I'll take it outside.’ He turns and walks back into the garden. A few minutes later he's back. ‘Beth, I've got to go, it's something urgent, can I call you tomorrow?’
‘Yes, of course.’ I stand watching him drive away in his shiny black VW Golf. Well what a surprise that was.
My phone rings - it's Mum.
‘Hi Mum, how are you? How's Jamie?’
‘I'm fine, and so is Jamie. He can't wait to tell you about his flight, I just wish you were here, he really misses you. Have you heard from the police?’
‘No, but don't worry, they'll soon sort it out, oh, and by the way, Nick just came to see me, you didn't tell me he works for the police.’
She grunts. ‘Good, let's hope he can help, now talk to Jamie.’
I can hear her talking to him then he's on the phone. ‘Mum, it's great here, when are you coming?’
I laugh. It's good to hear his little voice. ‘Jamie, I told you, I'll be there in a couple of days, now tell me about your flight.’
When we’ve finished, I sit looking at my phone, I know Mum will look after him, but I'm worried, what happens when they come back? What if the police haven't found out who did it? We're running low on wine, so I decide to take a walk to the supermarket, it'll clear my head and help me think.
7
Beth & Nick
Oxford
As I near the shops my phone rings. It's Nick.
‘Beth, I really don't think you should be walking around Oxford by yourself.’ I stop dead in my tracks. Did that young police officer call him, I saw him watching me when I left the house. ‘How do you know where I am and where are you?’
He totally ignores me and starts prattling on about a pub in the high street.
‘Listen, there's a small pub, three doors along from Tesco, I'll be there in ten minutes.’
I'm nearly at Tesco’s when I see the pub he's talking about. It's a typical old-style English pub - low beams, smells of beer, very quaint. I remember going in here many times when I was younger.
As soon as I enter, the barman calls out. ‘Yes, m'dear, can I help you?’ I smile to myself. I'd forgotten how friendly old English pubs are. I walk over to the bar and place a ten-pound note on it. ‘Two halves of lager, please.’ The barman nods, I look around for somewhere to sit.
‘There’s a seat over there,’ he says, pointing to a table by the window. ‘I'll bring them over if you like.’
‘Thanks.’
It's a small table for two, with wood carved chairs next to a window looking out onto the high street. The chair is surprisingly sturdy and very comfortable. The windows are tiny, they look Elizabethan. I peer through one of them and see Nick, he's on his phone, hurrying towards the pub.
The barman brings over the beers, gives me my change then ambles back to the bar.
Nick is quite tall, so to avoid hitting his head on the beams he has to duck when he comes inside the pub.
‘It’s a lovely old pub, do you come here often?’ I ask, moving my chair to give him some room.
He laughs. ‘No, but I often pop in for a quick drink, it's very handy and the beer's good.’ Then his voice changes, he looks worried. ‘You shouldn't be out alone, Beth, after what happened.’
I can't believe he just said that, I know I must be vigilant but for him to say I shouldn't go out is ridiculous.
‘I'm not staying at home just because some nutter firebombed our house, what planet do you live on Nick?’
A muscle twitches in his cheek, he says nothing, but I can see I've hit a nerve.
‘Nick, you said you want to help, and I really need your help. Has this sort of thing happened before, are there many cases like this?’
He doesn’t reply, just leans back in his chair, stretches his legs out under the table and sips his beer.
‘Nick,’ I almost shout then lower my voice. ‘I can't put my life on hold, I have a son to look after, he could have been killed. I don't know who did this, but they need to be found.’
He straightens up, puts his elbows on the table and looks at me intently. ‘Beth, this is all being taken care of by the police.’
‘Yes, I know, but I need to see the CCTV footage from the train I was travelling on from London. If I can identify the man, then the police will know who attacked me.’
‘Yes, of course.’ He sighs, wraps his hand over mine in a friendly way and smiles. ‘The police will ask you to come in and see if you recognize anyone, but you must make an official statement first, have you been to the station?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I'll do it tomorrow. I was busy today taking Jamie to the airport, and then you came round.’
We sit silently drinking our beer. He's looking at his phone and I'm racking my brains trying to think what else I want to ask him, then I remember.
‘Nick, do you know if there's CCTV in our street? I looked but I can't see any.’
He shakes his head. ‘I wouldn't think so, but you never know. I'll check tomorrow.’
‘And don’t forget to find out if there have been any similar cases in the area, it will give us something to go on.’
He’s just about to say something, then he shrugs. ‘I'll try, but I can't promise you anything. Now drink up, I've an early start tomorrow, I have to be up at 5.30 and you look as if you could do with a good sleep, my car’s just around the corner.’
In a few minutes, we're outside Mum's house. I can feel him watching me as I walk to the front door.
‘I'll call you tomorrow,’ he says, then drives off.
The house feels empty, slightly creepy. It's a warm night, but I shiver. I switch on all the lights, go into the kitchen, pull the blinds down and open the back door. Tabitha usually comes inside as soon as the lights go on.
‘Tab, where are you?’
No Tabitha, how strange.
Upstairs I look under the beds, but there's no sign of her. I'm beginning to get worried, she’s always very punctual for her food.
I take a quick peek outside the back door but still no Tabitha. Mum installed a cat flap so she can always use that. Maybe she's having too much fun to think of food. It's a lovely night, so good luck to her.
I close the door and start making a pot of tea. I'll watch the 10.00 o’clock news then go to bed.
8
Next morning
I still don't understand why Nick didn't call, he has my number, how was I supposed to know it was him outside tapping on the door, and who taps on a door like that?
He's the one saying I should be careful. I wasn't going to open the door, but then he shouted through the letterbox. When I opened it, he gave me my purse, said I'd left it in his car.
After that I couldn't sleep, I drank a glass of red wine then ended up finishing the bottle, staggered upstairs, collapsed into bed and now feel like shit.
Two large strong black coffees later I’m at Evesly police station. After driving around for ten minutes I eventually found somewhere to park. This may be a sleepy little village but the folks here get up early.
Inside the station an officer gives me a cursory glance and asks if he can help me.
‘Yes,’ I reply, more chirpily than I feel. ‘I've come to make a statement, my name is Beth...’
Suddenly the door behind him opens, a man walks out, he has a kindly looking face.
‘Good morning,’ he says, eyeing me up and down. ‘You must be Beth Papadakis?’
I nod.
‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Thomas, they told me you were coming, please follow me.’
I follow him to a room and after making my statement he asks me to go to another room and take a look at some mugshots to see if I recognize the man who attacked me.
‘Do you have the results of the samples taken from our living room?’ I ask, as I walk with him to the room. ‘I'm sure someone in forensics said it would only take a couple of days.’
He pushes up his glasses and turns to look at me. ‘Not yet, these things take time. Now let's see if you can recognize the person who attacked you.’
As we enter the room, I'm surprised to see just a handful of photos stacked up on a table all ready for me to look through.
I flick through them, but none resemble the guy on the train. DCI Thomas just turns and looks out of the window and waits for me to finish.