‘Going to go see Nat,’ she told her mum at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing Stanley’s blood off her hands on to her dark leggings. ‘Then I’m going to the Singhs’ for dinner, and II might stay over, if that’s OK?’
‘Oh. Yes, fine,’ her mum said, sighing as Josh started whinging about something else from the living room. ‘You’ll have to be back in the morning, though. We’ve told Josh we’re going to Legoland tomorrow. Cheered him up for all of two seconds.’
‘Yeah, OK,’ Pip said. ‘Sounds fun. Bye.’ She hesitated by the front door. ‘Love you, Mum.’
‘Oh.’ Her mum looked surprised, turning back to her with a smile, one that reached into her eyes. ‘I love you too, sweetie. See you in the morning. And say hi to Nisha and Mohan from me.’
‘Will do.’
Pip closed the front door. She glanced up at the brick wall beneath her window, standing exactly where he might have stood. It had rained again this morning, so she couldn’t tell, but there were little white disembodied marks up the wall. Maybe they’d always been there, maybe they hadn’t.
She hesitated by her car, and then walked on past it. She shouldn’t drive; it probably wasn’t safe. The pills were still in her system, weighing her down, and the world felt almost like a dream unrolling around her. Out of time, out of place.
She placed the cradle of her headphones around her ears as she left the drive and started walking down Martinsend Way. She didn’t even want to listen to anything, just flicked on the noise cancellation button and tried to float in that free, untethered place again. Disappeared. Where the gunshots and the sputt-sputt and the screaming music couldn’t find her.
Down the high street, past the Book Cellar and the library. Past the café and Cara inside, handing someone two takeaway cups, and Pip could read the words on her best friend’s lips: Careful, they’re hot. But Pip couldn’t stop. Past Church Street on her left, which wound round the corner up to the Bells’ house. But Andie wasn’t in that house, she was here now, with Pip. Turn right. Down Chalk Road, and on to Cross Lane.
The trees shivered above her. They always seemed to do that here, like they knew something she didn’t.
She walked halfway up, her eyes fixating on the painted blue door as it came into view. Nat’s house.
She didn’t want to do this.
She had to do this.
This deadly game between her and DT led here, and she was one move behind.
She stopped on the pavement just before the house, let her rucksack fall to the crook of one elbow so she could place her headphones inside. Zipped it back up. Took a breath and edged towards the front path.
Her phone rang.
In the pocket of her hoodie. Vibrating against her hip.
Pip’s hand darted into the pocket, fumbled with the phone as she pulled it out and stared down at the screen.
No Caller ID.
Her heart dragged its way back up her spine.
This was him, she knew it.
DT.
And now she had him. Checkmate.
Pip hurried past Nat’s house, the phone still buzzing against her cupped hands. Out of sight of the da Silvas’ house, she held it up and pressed the side button twice, to redirect the incoming call to CallTrapper.
The phone went dark.
One step.
Two.
Three.
The screen lit up again with an incoming call. Only this time, it didn’t say No Caller ID. A mobile number scrolled across the top of her screen, unmasked. A number Pip didn’t recognize, but that didn’t matter. It was a direct link to DT. To Daniel da Silva. Concrete evidence. Game over.
She didn’t need to accept the call; she could just let it ring out. But her thumb was already moving to the green button, pressing against it and bringing the phone up to her ear.
‘Hello DT,’ Pip said, walking down Cross Lane, to where the houses faded away and the trees thickened over the road. They weren’t just shivering any more; they were waving to her. ‘Or do you prefer the Slough Strangler?’
A sound down the line, jagged yet soft. It wasn’t the wind. It was him, breathing. He didn’t know it was game over, that she’d already won. That this third and final call was his fatal flaw.
‘I prefer DT, I think,’ Pip said. ‘It’s more fitting, especially as you’re not from Slough. You’re from here. Little Kilton.’ Pip carried on, the canopy now hiding the afternoon sun from her, a road of flickering shadows. ‘I enjoyed your trick last night. Very impressive. And I know you have a question for me: you want to know who would look for me if I disappeared. But I have a question for you instead.’