The Woman Who Lied(15)

It’s getting late now and the restaurant is emptying. They talk some more, and as they’re leaving Louise asks about the book.

‘So you’re calling it Her Last Chapter?’

‘That’s its working title. Although it might get changed. Do you want to read the finished version? I’d appreciate you checking for any inconsistencies. As you know, there’s a lot of police procedural in this one. Thanks for all your help on it. You’re a life-saver. You know how difficult I found it.’ She feels the familiar swirl of dread in the pit of her stomach when she remembers.

‘I was glad to help, and I’d love to read the finished version. Email it to me, if you like.’ Louise presses a black beanie onto her head and buttons her coat before heading through the entrance hall.

‘And you’re coming to my launch party, aren’t you? On the seventeenth?’ she asks as they step onto the rain-slicked pavement.

‘Launch party? But I thought Her Last Chapter was being published in October.’

‘This is for the paperback of book nine – The Lost Man. I didn’t get the chance to have a launch for the hardback because of lockdown.’

‘Sure,’ she says, linking her arm through Emilia’s. ‘If I’m not working, I’ll be there.’ They head towards the green, which looks shadowy and ominous ahead, the light from the lamp posts carving out halos in the mist. It’s deserted and eerie, the darkness pressing around them, like they’re being swaddled. Emilia shudders and Louise notices. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I am. It’s just … I keep thinking … What if I’ve got a stalker?’

‘You’re with me. Anyone gives you any hassle and I’ll arrest the prick.’

‘How do you know it’s a man?’

‘Or the prick-ess. Whatever.’ Louise collapses into laughter and Emilia can’t help but smile.

‘I don’t think you’re in the right state to arrest anyone just now.’

‘Good job Toby’s with Mike tonight. Although I miss him.’

‘I hope you mean Toby.’

‘I do. Of course I do. I don’t miss that fucker Mike.’

‘Talking of fuckers, you’ll never guess who I saw yesterday.’ Emilia fills Louise in on her meeting with Jonas.

‘So he’s cheating on Kristin?’ she says, horrified, when Emilia has finished.

‘I don’t think so yet. But he’s tempted.’

‘Well, that’s karma for you.’

‘I don’t know, though. I thought I’d be happy to think of him doing that to her, but I’m not. It just makes me think, What was it all for? Why did he put me and Jasmine through all of that heartache for it not to work out with Kristin?’

But Louise isn’t listening. She’s stopped suddenly on the dark path, forcing Emilia to stop too as their arms are still linked, and her whole body has gone rigid.

Emilia shivers. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ she whispers.

‘I think someone’s following us,’ she whispers back. All the joviality has gone from her voice and she suddenly seems stone-cold sober.

‘What?’ Emilia spins around but nobody’s there, just darkness stretched between shadowy buildings and the green on their left.

‘I could sense someone behind us … and then I saw a man dart into that alleyway. We need to keep walking. Come on.’ She pulls Emilia’s arm firmly.

Emilia’s heart starts banging so hard that she feels sick. Who the hell is following them and why? Is it the person who is responsible for the seagull and the troll, or someone unrelated to them? She sneaks a glance at Louise, but her expression is serious, focused, her cheeks red. She almost has to run to keep up with her friend’s pace. She hears footsteps behind them. Louise is right, someone is following them.

And then, thankfully, they’re out on the main high street where there are people, and cars, and lights, and Emilia feels weak with relief.

‘Come on,’ says Louise, almost dragging her to where a taxi has pulled up and a young couple are getting out. It’s nearly ten thirty on a Wednesday but there are still people around, for which Emilia is suddenly grateful. Louise speaks to the driver while Emilia climbs into the back seat, scanning the street to see who was following them. Someone emerges from between two buildings – the way they had come – but turns in the opposite direction, towards Richmond Bridge. They have on a hooded coat and Emilia can’t see the face. She squints, trying to see more, but can’t, and curses her failing eyesight. She used to have 20:20 vision.

The taxi moves away from the kerb and they flop back in the seat.

‘They probably weren’t following us,’ says Louise, turning her head to look at Emilia, the light from the streetlamps sweeping over her fine cheekbones. She doesn’t sound convincing.

‘Why are we going this way? Your flat’s just up there, isn’t it?’ says Emilia, sitting up to look out of the window.

‘I’d rather see you home safely first.’

‘So, you do think we were being followed?’

Louise doesn’t answer. Instead she purses her lips, as if she’s trying to stop herself revealing her true thoughts.

Fifteen minutes later the taxi pulls up in front of Emilia’s house. Elliot must already be in bed. He’s left the light on for her, which she can see in the fan of glass above the front door. The rest of the house is in darkness.