He grins and then picks up another stone to throw. I walk towards him, the small pile of stones I’ve managed to gather clinking in my pockets. My gaze lands just then on the cairn that I built. Something about it catches my attention and as I get closer, I see that it’s because it looks different to how I left it.

I stop and study it. I remember the stone I put on the top was unusual; washed almost white and a perfect flat oval shape. But now another stone sits on top.

I kneel down in front of the cairn and notice the white, oval-shaped stone that I put on top is lying a few feet away. I lean over to pick it up and put it back on the top of the pile, where it was before.

‘You OK?’

I startle and look up. Liam is standing over me.

I nod and smile at him, hurrying to stand up. ‘Here,’ I say, handing over the flat skimming stones I found for him. ‘Try these. I think they’re flat enough.’

Liam studies the pile I dump into his hands, discarding a couple that don’t pass muster. ‘Thanks,’ he says and turns and hurries back to the shore.

As he walks away, I glance quickly back over my shoulder at the treeline, but of course there’s nothing there.

‘Watch this!’ Liam says.

I turn and hurry after him.

Later that night, I lie beside Liam who has fallen asleep quickly. I can’t manage to drift off though. My memory flashes to the man I thought I saw standing among the trees on the beach; there one moment and gone the next. Was I imagining it? Could the anti-depressants be causing me to have paranoid thoughts? Or maybe I’m on edge and the ghost stories those men in the pub told me have aggravated my nerves.

A month or so ago the same thing happened. I was standing at the sink in the kitchen chopping carrots when I had a sudden feeling that I was being spied on. I even started to wonder if perhaps my mother’s ghost was hovering around, keeping an eye on me. I didn’t tell Liam that time either.

I ease out of bed and tiptoe towards the window. Slowly, I draw back the curtain. Outside there’s pitch blackness, broken only by a smattering of stars.

I laugh at myself for believing in ghosts, then pull the curtain across and slip back into bed.

The Stalker

She was just standing at the window looking out. I like watching her when she doesn’t know she’s being watched.