Read WHO FOLLOWS: a gripping, dramatic, intense and suspenseful thriller Online
Authors: Diane M Dickson
I spin away from the garden chair and stagger through the sliding patio doors on legs of India-rubber. My stomach churns, I try to find a place of safety. I review what I have told her. Why did I lie, why had I hidden the truth about Maria and I meeting in the supermarket, fabricated the basic facts of the relationship and complicated things beyond all measure? Maria was a nurse, not an administrator. We hadn’t met in the college. What can I have been thinking weaving lies and subterfuge to confound and confuse even myself? Trying too hard to be clever and in doing so becoming a fool, an utter fool.
When I had looked into Hannah’s eyes they were guarded and suspicious. I was alarmed by the hardness and the coldness there. Could she know and if so what is the depth of her knowledge? What could she know?
I run through to the downstairs lavatory and reach it just in time before losing control. I vomit the breakfast, the extra coffee, everything in my stomach. I flop empty and shivering onto the tiled floor.
Hannah knocks, “Are you alright Amy? Do you need anything?”
“Just leave me would you? Just give me some time.”
“Well I don’t know Amy, I think that maybe this is something we should talk about. I mean if you find it so upsetting then maybe it would be better to talk it out.”
“Go away, can’t you understand me? I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Splashing water on my face I catch a glimpse of my reflection, I am panicked and frantic and it show so clearly on my face.
“Hannah I think that I am not very well. I am sorry but I think it would be for the best if you left. I can call you tomorrow but really I need to be alone just now.”
“Oh not at all Amy, I can’t leave now. Come on out and let me take care of all this. I want to be your friend Amy, I thought we cared for each other. Come out now and let’s talk it all through.”
Her words are strange, her tone is cold and measured at odds with the words. She sounds not at all the concerned friend but more a bystander, a stranger. A cold chill sweeps through me, there is something here that is very, very wrong.
She knows, doesn’t she? By some strange power she knows. I sink to the floor, my back against the wall. I don’t understand what has happened, my thoughts spiral and spin and I can’t hold them. I see the broken, bloody body that had once been Maria, I see the blood stained carpet and the darkened woodland. I see again the mound of earth and smell the damp undergrowth and I am sure now that somehow Hannah knows.
All of a sudden I am calm, my heart stops the frantic tap dance and my brain clears. There is no way to fathom how she knows and there is no way to understand why it matters to her, but this person has found my secret, has somehow divined the most damning truth, and now I must act.
Straightening my back and squaring my shoulders I rub with the towel until my face looks almost normal and the ruin is obliterated. I call out through the door.
“Hannah, Hannah. Wait just a moment, I’m sorry. I’m alright really. Just give me another moment to gather my wits. Hold on.”
“Oh, are you sure? Shall I go through to the sitting room? I’ll wait in there for you. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
“Yes, would you? That’ll be fine. I’ll be there just now.”
I open the cloakroom door and step into the hall. Back in the sitting room she is waiting perched on the edge of the easy chair near the window. She looks edgy and over excited. Her face is flushed and her eyes sparkle. In spite of the turmoil of the last hour I am again overwhelmed by her beauty. There is something wrong though. My angel has a dark worm in her soul. I don’t know what it is, I can’t fathom her thinking. Why is she so preoccupied with my past relationship? We had already agreed that our friendship would be simply that, and so what difference does any of it make to her? I am very suspicious of her motives.
Whatever the cause there is too much risk here and I am going to be forced to act in some way. I have spent the last years keeping myself to myself. I have worked at home all those lonely hours and carefully managed my social engagements. There has been so much effort to avoid suspicion forming anywhere. I have never allowed anyone to get close and have not let myself become involved with much. In fact my life has been terribly restricted, and I am not willing to allow all that to have been in vain.
The few people I still see from the time of Maria believe my version of events. I explained that she simply left for a better job. Some of them had understood how strong my feelings had been, they were discreet and kind. Nothing was ever said, I allowed no prying questions, I kept relationships cool and maintained a distance. It has suited my purposes perfectly. Now though it is all at risk and I have no option but to take steps to protect myself. A plan is forming and even as I walk into the room and pin a smile on my face, my mind races with the scheme.
“My dear.” I cross to the window and kneel before her, taking her hand in mine. It is shaking, why is that? “I am so very sorry for all of this dreadful hysteria. I am embarrassed and would turn back time if I was able. I have spoilt our lovely day and feel so sad about that. I don’t often allow myself to think about Maria, I miss her very much you see. I find it all very painful. You can understand that can’t you?”
“Oh yes, of course. I see that I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. I was trying to help, really I was.” She draws her hand away and places it back on the top of the leather bag. Why is she still carting that thing about? I don’t remember this obsession from before. All morning she has had this clumsy black shoulder bag with her.
“Let me take that and put it away in the hall cupboard for you.” She clutches it tightly and her knuckles whiten against the skin of her hands.
“No, no it’s fine I’ll just keep it with me. I like to have it near, my tissues are in it you know, things I may need.”
I turn and look pointedly at the box of tissues on the side table and she blushes. My nerves are on full alert, they tingle and I still can’t pin down the reasons.
“I’ve been thinking about it all my dear and I wonder if you really can help me with this.” A smile curls her lips but doesn’t reach her eyes. Subterfuge and dissembling, I sense it.
“Of course, of course just tell me what you want me to do.”
“Well, only if you want to, if you feel you can do it. I wondered if you would come with me and visit her grave.” Her eyes flick to the side as her fingers twitch against the leather of the bag on her lap.
“Oh, oh yes of course. Yes certainly I will do that. Do you want to do it now today?”
“Well, I think that the last hours have put me into a strange place and I really do think that it would be a good time. Do you think that we could? Shall we take your car? I can tell you where to go.”
“Is she not in the cemetery then?”
“The cemetery, no, no – not the town one. Such a horrid place down there near the shops, no she is somewhere much nicer.”
“Amy.”
“Mmm, what is it my dear?”
“You didn’t tell me how she died, what sort of accident was it?”
“Ah yes. It was a domestic accident I’m afraid. Yes, a horrible accident in the home.”
“A fall?”
“Mmmm, a fall. She fell. Let me sort myself out, I will change and then off we go. No rush of course but do you think that you might want to pack your things, get them together? It is getting late and it will be quite dark by the time we come back and you’ll be ready to go home.”
“Pack my things, oh well yes of course. If that’s what you want.”
“Well to be perfectly honest I am feeling drained and I would rather like a quiet evening, I think it would be good for me to be alone. We will visit Maria and then you can drop me off. Will that be alright do you think?”
“Yes, yes I’ll go and sort out the bedroom.”
There is a tool box in the hall cupboard, I take a hammer and a small trowel. It is not ideal but I have to be able to make this look innocent.
“Ready Amy, I’ll put the things in my car.”
“Yes, I’m coming.” Joining her on the driveway I see her eyes flick to the large holdall I have with me.
“I hope it’s alright but it occurred to me that maybe the grave will need tidying. I have a couple of gardening tools. Not a problem is it?”
“No, no that’s fine. Do you want to put them in the boot?”
“Excellent. Now then off we go. Take the road up towards the Heath. Let me put that big bag of yours on the floor here.”
“Okay, careful, it doesn’t have a clasp. Don’t tip it. The Heath did you say? Up to The Heath.”
We drive through my gate and turn for the second time in such a few days and head back to the woods. My throat is dry and my hands quiver and shake at what I am about to do.
The beautiful sunny start to the day is lost, lowering skies are painted with shades of misery colouring through to black. There is the feel of rain in the air. And my soul is filled with the melancholy of the clouds.
As we near The Heath I notice that the few people around are heading towards the town. The threatening weather is actually on my side. The woods will be deserted.
The great car pulls into the parking space, little more than a flattened area of earth it serves because The Heath is mostly visited by dog walkers and kite flyers but not many car drivers. Children on bikes screech and laugh here and lovers stroll in the evenings.
We clamber down. “Where are we going Amy? I didn’t know there was a cemetery here.”
“No, it is one of those new environmentally sympathetic ones. No markings and not many people know about it. Only those of us who have been to a burial really know about it.” She looks unsure but shrugs and turns to retrieve the leather bag which I had stowed in the footwell. “You don’t need to bring that really. It’s not far.”
“Oh I know but it is such a habit. Us women and our bags eh.” She smiles at me. There is falseness about her. The air crackles with tension, or is it my heightened tension? I am afraid.
I am overwhelmed and turn to hide the swell of tears in my eyes. From here I can see the town laid out before me. With the early darkness there are lights popping into the gloom. Ribbons of brightness are drawn around the streets and in the distance there is a dark sheet of rain reaching down from the heavens. It is quite lovely in a wild way, nature unkempt and untamed as it must be. My life has become that now, fate or Kismet has taken control and I am simply a tool or more properly a weapon acting for self-preservation.
I am empty, my heart is a great weight in my chest and my head pounds. I reach into the boot of the car and retrieve the tools. “Come along my dear, let’s get this done before the rain comes.” As I turn I notice that the cars are now switching on their headlights and down amongst the houses I see blue sparkles, an ambulance or the fire brigade? At any rate there is someone else in trouble today. Maybe another like myself whose life will be changed irrevocably by the events of a day that began with sunshine.
I turn to trek across the bare earth to the trees. She follows slowly, glancing back a couple of times, the woods do not look welcoming. The shades and shadows are blackened against new leaves that are unnaturally green in the stormy light.
We follow the casual route, the desire path and tread carefully over exposed roots ducking and bending to avoid the branches. She stumbles and I reach out to steady her and acknowledge her weak smile. She is also afraid. The fear shakes her hands and flits into her eyes. Her pale skin is yet paler, corpse like. I think that there are tears on her lashes, why should she cry? Does she suspect or is it simply tension reflected by the very air between us? No matter, the die is cast and I tread firmly over the uneven ground heading for the clearing and the great pine tree.
The rain has reached us, there has not been enough yet to cause the trees to drip into the woods but the moisture chills our faces and dampens our clothes.
“Is it far, I wonder if we should turn back? We don’t have raincoats on.”
“Not long now Hannah, not long. Can you walk in front do you think? Just follow the path. You are more surefooted than I am I think.”
“Okay if you like. Straight on?”
“Yes, that’s right just follow this path, I’ll tell you when to turn.”
My voice catches in my throat as the emotion threatens to overwhelm me. I wonder if I can do this. The last time it was sudden, an explosion of fury and violence and the result was Maria bloody and broken on my carpet. This is so different, contrived and preconceived. Is this what I am now, have I truly become a monster? Dizziness overcomes me again. The passion is too much for my mental state. I lean against a damp trunk for a moment as she picks her way before me along the dark path.
As I stare at her narrow back and the blonde hair flat with moisture laying on her shoulders in tails and strands I have to remind myself what I am about. She is suspicious, she has moved on from interested to questioning and suspicion. The risk to my survival is too great. I renew my grip on the rain slick handle of my holdall and quietly undo the zipper. Groping in the dark I find the handle of the hammer. I can barely breathe, reality is suspended, a few more moments to walk closer. I am now within reach, she turns to me.
“This is silly isn’t it? Surely we can do this when the rain goes off.”
I look into her eyes and see a flicker of fear, her lips part and she freezes like a wild thing caught in the headlights of a truck. Silence has descended, my ears have ceased to hear. My brain is shutting out the dreadful moments, closing off like a child in the darkness. Now I am animal, now I am fighting for survival. She turns again.
“Amy, what’s wrong? Amy, Amy.”
As I watch she scrabbles in her black bag, glancing down and then back. Struggling with the handles and the belongings inside, she is starting to panic. She has divined my intent, I must be humane. I must finish this quickly, it should be like dispatching a fish, no time for terror. She has dropped the damned bag and the contents have spilled onto the forest floor. She falls to her knees scrabbling amongst the dirt and detritus. She is sobbing now, frantic and panicked. She snatches at a dark shape in the heap of belongings amongst the tree roots. She pushes backwards crawling crablike along the path.
I take short swift steps. My arm is half raised now the hammer head shines in the feeble glow of the rain washed moon. She looks up at me from her crouched position. There are tears running down her cheeks but she has stopped sobbing and raises her hands in front of her body. Both hands stretch towards me but not in defence, is it in supplication? She holds the dark object from her bag as if she is offering it to me. What can it be, what is that? I take two more steps towards her bending now but with the hammer still held high. I am ready to strike but what is this thing in her hand, what is she trying to give me?
“Amy Jobson, I arrest you for the murder of Maria Portious. You are not obliged…”
“No. What is this? No.” Leaping forward I hear an animal screech and realize that it comes from my mouth, from my soul. My hand descends bringing the glob of steel slicing through the gloom and the world explodes with a violent flash of light. My ears are forced back to function by the thunder to be immediately muffled by a second deafness as they react to the noise. An earthquake throws me from my feet and I crash back against a tree trunk. She has regained her feet and runs towards me.
The air is filled with light and sound. Flashing blue fills my eyes, filtered through the branches, howling creatures surround me. The noise is all consuming, there is a fire in my leg which refuses to function. She stands above me. How is it that I am here on the damp earth? Great shapes continue to move through the trees; there is shouting and wavering torchlights.
“Hannah, Hannah.”
“Over here Sarge, down here. Call an ambulance, we need an ambulance.”
She kneels over me. Her hair falls forward in a damp curtain as she leans to me. “Don’t try to move Amy, keep as still as you can. You’ll be alright. An ambulance is coming.”
“Hannah, I don’t understand. What has happened?”
“There will be time Amy, I can explain later. Let’s get you to the hospital first.” She turns to call out to the gathering figures. “Sarge, she’s losing a lot of blood here.”
I feel her fingers groping at the top of my leg and the pressure as she tries to stem the flow of blood. It is darker now, the moon has gone and the pain is dissipating. The figures stand amongst the trees, radios crackle and the torches shine their unforgiving beams towards us.