It’s not until I walk down my cobbled street, with the row of colourful houses on the hill in front of me, that I get the same chilling feeling that I’m being followed. The river on my left looks dark and unwelcoming; the apartments opposite are empty with only the occasional light on. A line of boats is tethered to the shore and bobs in the wind. I think of the shadowy person I saw standing by my building as I was leaving for Margot’s on Friday night and shudder, half expecting to see them crouched in one of the doorways, waiting for me.

I increase my pace, trying to distract myself with thoughts of Rory and the difficult conversation that’s still waiting to be had, and before I know it I’ve reached my building. I take the gate to the car park, texting Rory as I walk that I won’t be home for dinner. He replies straight away: That’s just as well as I’ve gone for a drink with some colleagues. See you later. No kiss.

I’m reading the text as I approach my car. I don’t usually feel afraid in the car park, it’s well lit and there’s often a resident either leaving or arriving, although it’s quiet tonight. Yet I can’t stop thinking of the person who was lurking outside here on Friday night. Will they come back? Who was it? I look up from my phone as I approach my Nissan. There’s something on the screen, clipped underneath one of my windscreen wipers. At first I wonder if it’s a flyer, but on closer inspection I see that it’s a wad of small, square photographs printed on flimsy paper and cut to size. I pick them up, wondering if this is Jack’s idea of a joke. I wouldn’t put it past him. There are five in total, and, as I flick through them, I shiver. They look as though they’ve been snapped from a distance in the street, but it’s plain to see that each photo is of me.

With a trembling hand I turn one over: I’m standing outside my building, turning the key in the lock. You can see only half of my face in profile. Scrawled across it are the words ‘BACK OFF’.

Chapter 31

31

Margot

Margot pours herself a glass of Pinot Noir and slumps onto the sofa. It’s been a hard few days and she closes her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts, ignoring the thumping in her temples.