The first thing he noticed was the open window on the first floor, at the side of the house. There was a light on in the room, but the blind was down. He wasn’t sure which level she lived on, but it wouldn’t take him long to find out. The small gate was ajar, so he moved quickly into the front garden. There were lights on in the top-floor apartment, too, so he stood back in the shadows, a large laurel hedge giving him all the protection he needed. He looked at the windows in the basement apartment; a latch hadn’t been pulled over on one of them. Some people were far too trusting. It often surprised him that others didn’t think the way he did. He’d been amazed at the number of times he had found it nearly too easy to break into places. Often, there would be an open or an unlocked window, or the occupants might leave a door ajar while they put out their rubbish, or went to talk to a neighbour.
Sometimes, as was the case with the Devines, the lights would be left on upstairs when the curtains weren’t pulled. The second time he’d seen Caroline, he had made the decision to follow her home, knowing he could check everything out on Google Maps once he had an address. Her home wasn’t far from the swimming pool. It took him no time to return later that night, in the dark. The Devines never left unlocked windows or doors, but by leaving their curtains open upstairs he could watch and wait. He was a patient man. Caroline would do her homework each night by the bedroom window, looking out onto the canal. Sometimes, if he got lucky, while she was there she would call a friend on her mobile or she’d go on the internet with her laptop, all of which meant he could watch her for longer. He had watched people like this before, all sorts. Once, he’d watched a family for months. They’d intrigued him, they’d always seemed so happy. In the end, he had tired of them and moved on to more interesting subjects. When it came to peeping into windows at night, the early dark evenings proved very handy.
The act of breaking in still excited him as much as it had always done, and that night was no exception. He knew this was her place, he had seen her coming out of it before. All he needed to do was establish which floor she lived on. It wouldn’t take him long to check out the intercom system and get his bearings before making his house call later.
The name Cassidy on the middle buzzer threw him initially, before remembering her husband’s surname, proving once again how vital research was in these matters. The fact that Kate lived on the first floor meant an opportunity to demonstrate his dexterity and agility, which was at its peak from summer months spent hiking and hill climbing. Although keeping agile and being fit were important, ensuring swift and easy movements meant success wasn’t just in the agility, but in the keenness of the eye.
Pulling back into the shadows behind the deep laurel hedge, he made his final appraisal of the building. The sudden click of the garden gate was unexpected, but he remained calm. The little boy, wearing his woolly hat, rested his head in sleep on his father’s shoulders. Lucky Charlie, he thought, having a father to love him.
Ellie
IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT BEFORE I WAKE. THE medication Dr Ebbs gave me rendered me unconscious from the moment I got back to my room. Now my mouth feels dry and my tongue enormous, like some savage beast wanting to choke me. It’s hard to believe, but I feel even more lethargic than normal.
I almost want to laugh out loud when I think about the woman I used to be, the one who ran so quickly through her thoughts in her eager effort to avoid them. I stumble out of bed and drink some water from the tap. It doesn’t take long for my eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. I wash my face, and the water chills from the outside in. When I sit back down on the bed, my knees curl instinctively tight into my chest. I wrap my arms around them.
The weather has changed. The wind is rising. It sounds as wild as the one from a few nights back. The pelting rain hits the small window panes in an attempt to bring freshness, fast and heavy, the wind carrying it in sheets of water, with barely time to stay on the glass. I watch the rainwater flow down in large puddles, mushrooming into one another. It’s as if the water wants to clear everything in its path, wipe away all that is no longer necessary.
Who had I dreamed about – Amy, Andrew, Joe? Yes, they’d all been part of it, all part of the nightmare that creeps into my subconscious, clawing to be realised. In the dream, I was trying to sort things out, fix things, but I couldn’t manage it no matter how hard I tried. Even in sleep, the answers to old questions still escape me.
Today with Dr Ebbs had been difficult. In many ways, once I had written in that copybook, I should have known my change of mood would precipitate such things. Over time I’ve learned to recognise these shifts. Like most things, they have a habit of creeping up on you, disguised in subtle ways, until finally you reach the point where you have gone too far to ever go back again.
Up until now, I’ve been able to keep these changes to myself, to such an extent that no one other than me would have been aware that anything had altered. The good doctor had been surprised by what I’d told him. At the start he was sceptical, I could see that, but I’m used to their scepticism. It’s their belief I have a problem with, no longer used to such a thing.