Stalker

Chapter Thirty-Six

‘It always feels hotter in the south,’ Derek’s mother remarked as she climbed out of the cab.

‘Spoken like a true southerner,’ the cab driver returned, taking her case from the boot.

She gave him the fare plus a tip.

‘Thanking you,’ he said. ‘Do you want a lift in with your case?’

‘No, it’s only light. I can manage, thank you.’

‘Enjoy the rest of your day then,’ he said, and returned to his cab.

Front door key ready, Elsie Flint pushed open their garden gate. Taking a cab from the station had been a real luxury; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d caught a cab, perhaps never. Neither had she ever just upped and left before but she’d needed to get away after all the trouble she’d caused. Clearly Derek was still annoyed with her because he hadn’t even telephoned her. But the three days she’d spent with her sister had done her good. She felt revitalized and more confident. It had been a complete change of scenery and mixing with others had helped, although three days had been enough. Her sister had quizzed her about what exactly Derek had been up to, to the point where she’d had to tell her firmly that she didn’t know any more than what had been reported in the news. Added to that, her sister had moved since her last visit and now lived in a block of retirement flats that had a busy social scene: organized activities in the communal lounge and neighbours stopping by for coffee. It wasn’t what Elsie was used to so while she’d enjoyed it, a few days had been sufficient.

Her front door was double-locked so Derek must be out. Elsie let herself in and set down her case in the hall for unpacking later. She picked up the mail scattered across the floor and tucked it on the hall table, again for seeing to later. Derek must have gone out early before the mail had arrived, suggesting he was working again, which was a good sign. Presumably the police had given him back his van, motorbike and computer, so he should be in a better mood when he returned. First things first, a cup of tea, then unpack and catch up on the television she’d missed. There’d been no time for watching television at her sister’s and she didn’t like soaps anyway. Slipping off her jacket, Elsie hooked it on the hall stand and went into the kitchen.

A frying pan with a thick layer of white bacon fat and a saucepan containing dried baked bean sauce greeted her. She tutted as she carried them to the sink; Derek might have at least put them in to soak. She made tea and took it through to the living room where she found his dirty plate and mug on the coffee table. Admittedly he didn’t know she was coming home today but he might have cleared up. Sometimes it was like having a teenager in the house, having to clean up after him. Never able to relax with dirty dishes in view, she took the plate and mug into the kitchen and left them in the sink, then returned and made herself comfortable in front of the television, mug of tea in her hand. It was good to be back. She’d phone her sister to say she’d got home safely just as soon as she’d caught up on EastEnders.

An hour later the clock on the mantelpiece struck six o’clock and Elsie heaved herself out of the chair and went into the hall to phone her sister. Why they didn’t have a phone in the living room like her sister did, she’d no idea. Her sister’s answerphone cut in so she left a message saying she was home and thanking her for a nice time. Then she took her case upstairs to set about unpacking. Derek would be home for his dinner before long and she’d need to check what was still in the fridge and freezer as she doubted he’d restocked it while she’d been away. She and her sister had ordered a Chinese takeaway one night, which her sister did at least once a week. She and Derek never had takeaways; perhaps she’d suggest it for tonight. But then again Derek was very conservative and set in his ways when it came to food, indeed as he was in most things so probably wouldn’t like Chinese.

Elsie returned her empty case to under the bed, dropped her dirty washing in the laundry basket in the bathroom and went downstairs. Opening the freezer door, she found to her small surprise it was still fully stocked; none of the meat or ready meals she’d left for him had been touched. She took out a steak pie for them to have and then looked in the fridge to see what vegetables were left. All of them, and the cheese, yogurts and cold meats were untouched too. What had he been living on? A couple of eggs were missing and a few rashers of bacon, hence the dirty pans. She looked in the bread bin and saw the packet of six rolls and the small loaf she’d left for him for sandwiches were untouched. Her puzzled expression gave way to a wry smile. Was it possible Derek had finally found himself a girlfriend and he’d been seeing her while she’d been away? Well, well, who would have thought it? She couldn’t think of any other rational explanation as to why he hadn’t been eating here, and if she was right she couldn’t wait to tell her sister. Derek was normal after all!

At seven o’clock there was still no sign of him so a little miffed, Elsie sat at the table to eat alone. Once she’d finished she washed the dishes and returned to the living room and the television. An hour passed and when Derek still hadn’t arrived home or thought to phone, Elsie was more annoyed than worried. He was probably with a client or his new girlfriend. If he was going to eat with her then she needed to know so she didn’t waste any more good food. His mobile number was in their address book on the hall table. Elsie seldom needed to use it as Derek was such a creature of habit. Silencing the television, she went into the hall, found his number and keyed it in. A recorded message said straightaway: ‘This phone is switched off, please try again later.’

Strange, she thought. She’d never known Derek to switch off his phone before. If he was at work it went through to voicemail. Must be with the girlfriend. She’d leave it half an hour and try again.

Picking up the pile of mail from the hall table, Elsie now took it into the living room to sort through. There was quite a lot and as usual most of it was for Derek, mainly circulars in connection with his work. She set his mail in a pile to one side and opened the first of her letters. It was from her doctor reminding her it was time for another well-woman check-up and to phone the surgery to make an appointment. The second was an electricity bill which she put in Derek’s pile; although it was addressed to her he took care of all the bills and paid them online. The last of hers was a postcard with a photograph of a dog on the front, its large doleful eyes gazing out imploringly. Another appeal from the animal charity she supported. She turned it over and read the dog’s tale of woe and that they were asking for another £15. Her gaze slid across the card to the pretty commemorative stamp with her address below. It was a wonder the card had been delivered at all, the franking machine had missed the stamp and obliterated the first two lines of the address. It was then she noticed that the card had been stamped three days before – the day she’d left. Why had Derek left it lying on the floor all this time? He was usually very particular about opening the mail each day. She checked the dates on the other envelopes and realized that this was three days of mail, all left untouched in the hall.

Had Derek been with his girlfriend all that time? Moved in with her without telling her? Had he now left his mother for good? Was that why he hadn’t phoned? The air around her chilled. Surely he would have said something or at least left a note? They had their differences and snapped at each other sometimes but Derek wasn’t the type to just up and leave her, was he? The last time she’d seen him – on the morning she’d gone to stay with her sister – he’d appeared in a better mood and seemed to have forgiven her for talking to the press. Yet now he had gone and a feeling of unease stirred within her.

She went upstairs to his bedroom, out of habit knocking on the door before going in. His computers weren’t there – the police must still have them. She crossed the room. A brand-new laptop sat on the workstation with a mobile phone still in its packaging beside it. That could explain why he wasn’t answering his phone. Kneeling on the floor she looked under the bed; his suitcase was still there.

She straightened, crossed to the wardrobe and opened the doors. If he had taken any clothes it couldn’t be many, as it was still full. She went into the bathroom, saw his toothbrush in the mug, then lifted the lid on the laundry basket. It contained only her washing, none of Derek’s. It didn’t make sense unless his lady friend had been doing his laundry, but why were all his belongings still here?

With mounting unease Elsie returned downstairs and opened the interconnecting door to the garage. Derek’s motorbike wasn’t there. Either he’d taken it with him or the police still had it. But his van wasn’t outside and why leave his new laptop and phone here? It really didn’t add up and she suddenly felt very alone and abandoned.

Closing the door, she went round the downstairs, switching on all the lights and drawing the curtains. Alone in the house, it felt safer with the curtains closed now it was dark outside. She shuddered as another thought struck her. Perhaps Derek had been arrested again? That could explain why he hadn’t taken his belongings, and his computer, motorbike and van were still missing. Three days’ mail suggested he’d been arrested again on the day she’d left and he’d been there all this time. Her breath caught in her throat.

But what was she supposed to do about it? She’d no idea. She’d seen episodes of soaps on television where one of the characters had been arrested, but they always seemed to know what to do and phoned their lawyers to get them off. But as far as she knew they didn’t have a lawyer and she hadn’t a clue how to go about finding one. It was at times like this – when there was a problem – that she relied on Derek to take control and sort out what needed to be done – which gave her an idea. She could telephone the police station and ask to speak to Derek, then he could tell her what she needed to do to bring him home.

Her spirits lifted slightly and she gave herself a mental pat on the back. This certainly seemed the right thing to do and she went to the telephone in the hall again. It wasn’t a 999 police emergency so she’d need the number of their local police station. Derek usually found any telephone numbers they needed on the Internet, but that wasn’t an option for her. She didn’t know how to use a computer. She remembered that he’d written the number for directory enquiries in their address book in case she needed it during the day when he was out at work. She opened the address book and turned to D for directory enquiries. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves she keyed in the number, then told the operator she wanted the number for Coleshaw police station.

‘Connecting you now,’ the operator said a few moments later.

She heard it ringing and her heart began to race. She’d never phoned the police before.

A rather stern male voice answered. ‘Duty sergeant.’

‘I’m sorry to trouble you, but could you tell me if my son is there please? I need to speak to him.’

‘You think your son is being held in custody here?’

‘Yes.’

‘His name?’

‘Derek Flint.’

‘The name doesn’t ring a bell, but I’ve just come on duty. I’ll check.’ She waited for what seemed like ages, then, ‘No, he’s not here. What made you think he was?’

‘He’s not at home and I don’t think he’s been here for three days. I don’t know where he is.’

‘How old is he?’

‘Forty-one.’

She heard his pause and guessed what he must be thinking – over-protective mother. ‘Have you tried phoning him?’

‘Yes, his phone is switched off. I thought he might be with his girlfriend, but I don’t think so now.’

‘That’s the most likely reason for a man of his age to be away from home. Either that or he’s out with his mates on a jolly.’

‘He doesn’t have any friends.’

‘Do you want to report him missing?’ the officer asked, an edge of impatience in his voice.

‘I don’t know. I thought he’d be there.’

‘I’m sorry, ma’am, we’re very busy. I suggest you give him a bit more time and try his phone again. If he doesn’t return and you’re still concerned you can phone back and report him missing.’

‘Yes. I’ll do that. Thank you.’

Elsie ended the call and tried Derek’s mobile again but the message still said the phone was switched off. She returned to her chair in the living room. It was unlike Derek to cause her so much worry. Surely he would phone her before long? If only to tell her he wasn’t ever coming home again.