Back Grasshopper
Chapters (41)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Title Page
  3. Praise
  4. Author’s Note
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Chapter 31
  36. Chapter 32
  37. Chapter 33
  38. Chapter 34
  39. Also by Barbara Vine
  40. About the Author
  41. Copyright Page

She whispered, “C. Brown and Co. Ltd. I found you in the Yellow Pages. How was I to know?”

“I’ve done the job. Do you want to try your lights?”

She didn’t move, apart from her hands. She began wringing her hands, the blue nails like frightened beetles wildly scurrying this way and that. Then, incredibly, in a high voice, she said, “I’m trying to think where we met. It must have been at college. Or when I was Lavinia’s PA, I met so many people, it’s hard to recall . . .”

I took pity on her. I’d been on the point of saying that it was in Russia Road, on the top of Silver’s parents’ house, on the roofs, don’t you remember? Don’t you remember what happened? Don’t you remember Jonny and Wim? I didn’t say any of those things. I hadn’t the heart to torture her further. Instead I took her through the light sequences. There wasn’t a chance she’d remember which switches worked what. Her head would be full of me and of the threat I represented. I wanted to be able to say to her that she need never see me again, never fear me, but I didn’t know how to begin. I couldn’t find any words to say what in any case would only result in her telling me she didn’t know what I meant.

“Right,” I said, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Would you like me to pay you now or will you send in your account?”

“I’ll send you the bill,” I said.

She’d closed the door before I’d reached the front gate. And the garden path was only a few yards long. I’d frightened her very badly. My usual procedure, when I’ve done a job for a new customer, is to call them a couple of days later and check that all is well. It’s a good system. In a very few cases all isn’t well and they’re foaming at the mouth because they’ve forgotten your name and haven’t got the bill yet. On the other hand, when all is well as it mostly is, calling them puts your name back in their minds as well as making them think you’re a thoughtful, caring person. I decided I’d waive this calling back in Liv’s case. It would do more harm than good. She would never call me again anyway. There, as it happens, I was wrong but I didn’t know that at the time.