‘Hello?’ she said, hoping for a sales call, or her sergeant, or BT broadband, anyone except … A heavy exhalation of breath. ‘Hello, who’s there?’ she said, firmer this time. Nothing. Nothing but breath ruffling the phone line, and the low, ominous sense of hatred being conveyed without words. Slamming down the phone, she grabbed her boots from the floor and tugged them on. She was meant to have the weekend off, but she couldn’t spend another second in her home. Fear quickened her movements as she grabbed her coat, scarf and car keys and marched out of the front door. She drove on autopilot to the police station. It was a prank. Nothing to be scared of. But the phone call, so soon after she picked up the letter. It gave a clear message – I am watching you. I will be back.

Sarah monitored her sergeant’s expression as she read and re-read each word. She’d relayed details of the silent call, but it was the letter which intrigued her the most. As Sarah sat in front of Gabby’s desk, she was in earshot of her colleagues who were immersed in their work. ‘Where’s the envelope?’ Gabby said, her gaze falling on Sarah’s empty hands.

‘I … um, I left it at home. He delivered it by hand. No stamp. Through the cat flap in the back door.’ The last thing Sarah wanted was her sergeant seeing her maiden name.

‘The back door?’ Gabby echoed Sarah’s words.

‘The front of my house is visible from the road. Maybe he was worried about being seen.’

‘They … maybe they were worried about being seen,’ Gabby corrected. ‘Never assume. What’s your home security like?’

‘Crap,’ Sarah replied. ‘The fence needs replacing. Every time there’s a storm it comes down.’ Sarah’s street led to the local playground and kids cycled past on their bikes all the time. But the back of Sarah’s house led to a trail overgrown with brambles which was a cut-through into town. At night, it was dark and gloomy and only used by those in the know. She didn’t tell her sergeant that some nights she went to bed and forgot to lock her back door. She didn’t need anyone else calling her an incompetent loser today. She willed Gabby to keep talking, unable to escape the sound of the caller’s breath. She imagined them, palms moist as they clung to the receiver, getting a kick out of her fear. Her sergeant’s eyes flicked upwards, pinning her with a gaze.

‘What’s this rubbish about tablets?’

‘Dunno,’ Sarah lied. ‘I keep some painkillers in my bedside drawer. Doesn’t everyone?’

Satisfied, Gabby bowed her head as she re-read the words.

‘I take it you’ve not heard from Angelica,’ Sarah said, feeling a sudden urge to fill the silence.