Karin was sure she was being followed. At first she thought it was just paranoia brought on by stress and overwork, but it was happening too frequently to be just her imagination. At first it was nothing more than an eerie sense of being watched, the feeling of unseen eyes on her back or an involuntary shiver, even though it was seventy-five degrees outside. She had never been one to get easily spooked, but at the same time she had always possessed a sharp sense of knowing when something was wrong and it was making her jumpy. It made her close the curtains as soon as it went dark. It made her request the use of Adam’s driver more frequently, although she did not tell him her suspicions – he would have laughed, especially as she often mocked his Manhattan security consciousness with his ex-SAS driver and his friends who had bodyguards and submarines that circled their yachts when they were on holiday.
She first saw him late on a hot, sunny afternoon in July. An apricot sun was sitting low in the hazy, pale blue sky and Karin had finished work early to enjoy the evening. Adam was in New York and she wanted some downtime to relax, perhaps sort out some paperwork. Swim Show Miami, the industry’s most important trade fair, was only two weeks away and she needed to make sure they were prepared. Her house was just round the corner from a fabulous Italian deli and she strolled down there to get some beef tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella for an early supper on the roof terrace. Coming back, she cut through the South Kensington back-streets of tall white townhouses and hidden parks feeling relaxed and happy. Then she saw him. He was sitting on a wall at the end of her street reading a music magazine. His hair was lank and brown, pushed back over his ears, and his long face had a sullen expression. At first she thought he was just another teenager, but the way he had looked so directly, so intensely at her had made her feel deeply unsettled. As she passed, he began to follow her, the clop of his heavy trainers clearly audible behind her. She climbed up the stone steps of her house without looking back and slammed the door shut. Peering through the peephole she could see his distorted image standing outside and she quickly double-bolted the front door. Don’t be so silly, Karin, she scolded herself. He’s only a kid. She even managed a small laugh as she climbed the stairs to run a warm, oily bath. He’s only a silly little kid. What harm could he do?