16

Abi had one of the best nights of her life. She felt comfortable, laughed throughout, and there were no awkward silences or embarrassing moments. Nor did she feel self-conscious or bored. It was how she always envisaged the perfect date would go and how none of her dates had ever gone.

But despite being at ease, she felt the pang of anxiety when they stepped outside and headed for the Uber. She recalled her encounter with Robert—the awkward kiss that had turned into an even more awkward handshake, the resulting chase through the park. She wanted to kiss Steven, but she didn’t want to make the first move; she didn’t want the night to end, but she also didn’t want to be the one proposing they extend it.

“It’s still early. Do you want a nightcap?”

When Steven spoke those words, Abi immediately relaxed, her mind going back to where it had been throughout the night. “I’d love to.”

They had already arranged for the Uber to take them both home. The plan was for it to drop her off first, during which she envisaged an awkward backseat goodbye with a fumbled kiss and a mumbled agreement to meet again. It would then drop him off at his house, ending the night for both of them. She was so happy they had agreed to extend the night, so lost in conversing with Steven on the backseat, that she didn’t realize the car was still going to her house until it pulled up outside.

Steven thanked the driver, and before she could think of an excuse, he was out of the car and holding the door open for her.

“My lady,” he said, making a swooning gesture.

Abi clambered out silently, laughing but trying to keep her voice down.

The Uber drove off and left them both in the driveway, looking up at her house. One of the upstairs lights was still on, but it was pitch-black downstairs.

Steven hooked Abi’s arm through his and then made a move to walk down the driveway. She resisted, halted. “Do you mind if we don’t go inside?”

Steven looked a little confused. “If you’re worried about it being a mess, don’t be. Trust me, mine’s a lot worse.”

She laughed. “No, it’s fine. It’s not a mess.”

“Oh, okay. Then … neither is mine.”

“I just—I just—” she sighed. “Okay, so I probably should have told you this, but you know the grandmother that I mentioned?”

“The amazing and obscene old lady? How could I forget?”

“Well, I live with her.”

“Oh.”

“I know, it’s weird.”

“What? Don’t be stupid. I lived with my parents until I was twenty-seven. Now that’s weird. If anyone asks, I was just looking after them in their old age. But between me and you, I was a lazy slob who had it easy and didn’t want to let go.”

“At least you’re honest.”

“Yes, although sometimes I wonder why.” He looked up at the bedroom windows and then the front door. “Do you have a backyard?” he wondered, eyes still on the door.

“Yes.”

“Are there any lights?”

“A spotlight and a bunch of little solar lights.”

“Chairs?”

“Four.”

“Then what are we waiting for? It’s a warm night, the moon’s out, your X-rated granny is asleep. I’ll book myself an Uber for a couple hours, you grab some booze and blankets, and we’ll reconvene in the yard. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Abi opened the front door quietly, shutting it and locking it behind her. She hadn’t been that embarrassed about living with her grandmother. It wasn’t something she was ashamed of, so it wasn’t something she felt the need to hide. Martha was an amazing person and a joy to live with. But despite her love for her grandmother, Abi didn’t want the old lady to meet Steven.

She imagined Martha greeting him in her nightdress, her suggestive smile giving away even more than the thin, almost-transparent silk. Within seconds of introducing them to one another, her grandmother would swear and say something incredibly inappropriate, leaving Steven shocked and not sure what to do with himself. Then, as he wondered whether she was unwell, insane, or just uncivilized, she would ask probing questions and leave no stone unturned as she quizzed him on everything from his marital status to his STD history.

Abi stood in complete darkness, not even willing to turn on the light lest her grandmother sense the activity and the opportunity that it brought. She looked to the top of the stairs and the faint light that emanated from her grandmother’s room and she waited, listening for any sound of movement. Martha didn’t snore—she barely made a noise. But if she was awake, she would be tapping on the keyboard, sending messages to unsuspecting young men and looking for mischief at every turn.

Abi couldn’t hear any sound except for the forceful beating of her own heart. Relieved, she grabbed a couple glasses and a bottle of wine from the kitchen and then slipped outside. Her first instinct was to study Robert’s house, directly adjacent to hers and separated by a tall wooden fence, but the garden chairs were set back and, from where they sat, they would only be able to see the second story of his house. If he were inside, hiding in the darkness behind the second-story windows, he would be able to see them.

The thought sent a chill down her spine and raised goose-pimples on her flesh.

She sat down next to Steven and poured them both a glass of wine, shooting occasional glances at Robert’s house as she did so.

Was that movement? Did I just see someone?

Don’t be stupid. Probably just a reflection.

“Cheers.” Abi raised her glass and ignored her fears. “To a wonderful night.”

“Cheers,” he echoed. “To a great night indeed.” He drank and then added, “And to your gran, who sounds like a great woman. Shame I can’t meet her.”

“Trust me, it’s not a shame.”

“Ah, come on, she can’t be that bad.”

Abi tucked her legs underneath her body and pulled her sleeves down over the hands, keeping the brisk night at bay. “You’d think that,” she said, smiling, “But … put it this way. Have you heard of Nasty Gran?”

Steven returned her question with an intrigued shake of his head.

“It’s her Twitter handle.”

“Your gran uses Twitter?”

“Oh, yes.”

“My gran barely knows how to work the toaster. I set up an email account for her a few years ago and had to delete it when I discovered she had been responding to spam. Every time she received spam, she would respond to politely decline and thank them for thinking of her.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It’s insane is what it is. It’s a good thing she didn’t have any offers from Nigerian princes, God knows how that would have turned out.”

“Think yourself lucky,” Abi said. “My gran has argued with everyone in town. She had a dig at the mayor last month, calling him an ‘over-fed, undereducated swine’ because he rejected plans for a supermarket.”

Steven shrugged. “I’m still liking her.”

“She gets … dirty pictures from young men—”

“Dirty pictures? You can say the word, you know,” Steven teased.

Abi dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “You know what I mean. She gets those pictures and instead of ignoring them or reporting them, she files them away on her computer and then sends the men a detailed critique.”

Steven laughed, nearly spilling his wine. He slapped a hand to his mouth, aware that he might wake the woman in question. “I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious.”

Abi nodded. “I suppose, but she can also be a nightmare. She got into this feud with a local troll recently. A real waster. He would post all kinds of horrible stuff and when she called him out, he focused his attentions on her, doing everything he could to try and expose her, embarrass her, belittle her.”

“Sounds like a prick.”

“One hundred percent. But she got her way in the end. Gran has a razor-sharp wit.”

Steven used his sleeve to wipe the remnants of spilled wine from his chin before blotting it against the seat of his pants. “Does she usually meet your boyfriends?” he asked, his eyes on the task at hand.

“Not if I can help it.”

He finished and turned to her, an expectant look in his eyes. “What about your most recent adventure?” he quizzed. “If I remember rightly, you owe me a story.”

“I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“I’m like an elephant,” Steven said. “And not just because I have a great memory.” He winked.

Abi shook her head, unable to suppress a smile. “That was pathetic, but I’ll let it slide seeing as you’ve been doing so well so far.”

“Come on then.” He shifted in his seat to face her directly, the glass of wine cradled in his hands. “Tell me all about this guy. Warts and all. And by that, I don’t mean literally. Unlike your gran, I won’t judge, but I’d prefer not to hear about another man’s warty junk.”

“There was no warty junk,” Abi said. “At least, not that I know of.” She poured herself another drink, topping up her date’s glass as she did so. “Okay,” she said eventually, after much stalling. “But promise you won’t think less of me.”

“I can’t promise that, but I promise that I’ll pretend not to think less of you.”

Abi told him everything. She was anxious at first, unsure how she would come across, but the more she spoke, the more she realized how sane her situation was. Yes, she had made a fool of herself in front of the police and yes, she didn’t have a lot of proof, but she was within her rights to be paranoid and to suspect her neighbor of foul play. These thoughts were confirmed by Steven, who was hooked on her every word and seemed desperate for the details.

“This is like one of those late-night crime and investigation documentaries,” he said at one point, “you know, the ones that end with you being murdered in your sleep.”

“That’s comforting.”

“I’m sure it won’t happen to you,” he assured. “But just in case, maybe sleep with the light on.”

Abi told him about sneaking into Robert’s house and following him into the town—she didn’t leave anything out. All the while, the two of them shot furtive glances toward Robert’s house—still bathed in blackness with no sign of activity behind any of the windows.

“If all this is true, then who was the girl? We’re assuming he killed her, as well, right?” Steven asked. “But why did he kill her? Was she an ex of his or was it completely random?”

Abi shook her head. She had asked herself the same question. “More likely to be someone that rejected him. Or—” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s just what he’s into. I mean, she was pretty popular online, she lived and worked in the area. Maybe he just saw her around and thought …”

“I’ll kill her?”

Abi shrugged. “Sadists don’t need a reason to be sadistic.”

“Good point.”

Abi watched as Steven drained his glass, his eyes on Robert’s house. As he finished the last dregs, he brought the glass down slowly, seemingly confused. It was one of the few times she hadn’t seen him smiling all night and the expression concerned her.

“I don’t mean to alarm you,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure I just saw a flash.”

Abi followed his gaze immediately. “Are you sure?” she asked. “Maybe it was a reflection of headlights. There’s a road over in that distance—”

“Not only that …” Steven pushed. “And now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m fairly certain that window wasn’t open before.”

Abi had enjoyed one of the best nights of her life, had felt more comfortable, more at ease than she had ever been, and for the first time she hadn’t worried about work or making a fool of herself. But the moment she saw the open window and confirmed Steven’s suspicions, all that disappeared.

The anxiety, the paranoia, the dread—everything returned, rushing through her like a cold wind.

He’s been watching us.

He opened the window so he could hear.

How loudly had we been speaking?

Loud enough?

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath, taking a leaf out of her grandmother’s phrasebook.

He could have heard everything.