WATCHING YOU
WATCHING YOU
Intro
Emma Carter has always believed that if something feels wrong, it probably is.
Most people don't.
When she witnesses what appears to be a frightened young woman being forced into a car outside a supermarket one ordinary Tuesday evening, Emma does what she hopes anyone else would do. She memorises part of the registration plate and calls the police.
But without a victim, a body or evidence of a crime, the police can do little more than log the incident.
Her husband tells her she's overreacting.
The officers reassure her it's probably nothing.
Life moves on.
Except Emma can't shake the feeling that someone is watching her.
A familiar car parked a little too often near her house.
The same stranger appearing in different places.
Her car seat mysteriously moved.
Footsteps outside late at night.
A shadow lingering just a second too long.
As the weeks pass, Emma's world begins to shrink. She stops going out alone, checks every mirror, jumps at every unexpected sound and starts questioning her own sanity.
Is someone really stalking her?
Or has fear convinced her to see danger where there is none?
When the woman she saw that night is discovered murdered, Emma realises she may be the only witness the killer never knew he had.
Now she must prove someone is hunting her before she becomes the next victim.
Because sometimes the hardest part isn't surviving a stalker.
It's convincing everyone else that one exists.
Chapter One
Tuesday evenings never changed.
Emma liked that.
Routine made life predictable.
Predictable made life safe.
Every Tuesday she finished work at exactly twenty past eight, walked across the road to Tesco, picked up a small basket and bought the same few things.
Greek yoghurt.
Bananas.
A loaf of bread.
Milk.
Sometimes a chocolate bar if the week had been particularly stressful.
By quarter to nine she would be walking back towards the multi storey car park, unlock her little grey Ford Focus and be home before Ryan finished his evening shift.
It had become almost automatic.
She knew which cashier usually smiled.
Which aisle always had a squeaky trolley.
Even which lift in the car park was more likely to be out of order.
That Tuesday began no differently.
The supermarket was quiet.
Most shoppers looked tired after work.
Emma paid, wished the cashier a good night and stepped back outside into the cool evening air.
Rain had stopped only minutes earlier.
The pavement glistened beneath the streetlights.
She was halfway across the car park when she heard shouting.
Not loud.
Just enough to make her stop.
Across the far side of the car park stood a dark SUV.
A young woman stood beside it.
She couldn't hear every word, only fragments carried on the breeze.
"...please..."
"...I'm not going..."
A tall man stood close to her.
Too close.
He wasn't shouting.
That somehow made it worse.
The woman looked frightened.
Emma instinctively reached for her phone.
She wasn't trying to film anyone.
She simply wanted the registration plate.
The man suddenly grabbed the woman's arm.
Not violently.
Firmly.
The woman pulled away.
Then, almost as quickly as it had started, she climbed into the passenger seat.
The SUV drove away.
Emma stared after it.
Something about it didn't sit right.
She looked down at her phone.
She'd managed to type the first five characters of the registration number.
Not much.
But maybe enough.
She stood there for another few moments before dialling 999.
Chapter Two
The police arrived twenty minutes later.
By then the car was long gone.
Emma repeated everything she'd seen.
"I couldn't hear everything," she admitted.
"I don't even know if they were together."
The officer nodded while making notes.
"So you didn't actually witness an assault?"
"No."
"Did she ask for help?"
"No."
"Did she appear injured?"
"I... don't know."
The officer closed his notebook.
"I appreciate you calling."
Emma frowned.
"That's it?"
"We've got a partial registration number. We'll make enquiries."
"But what if she's in danger?"
"We don't have evidence that a crime has taken place."
Emma felt her stomach sink.
"So nobody's going to look for her?"
"We'll record the incident."
"And if nothing comes from it?"
The officer gave her a sympathetic smile.
"Sometimes arguments look worse than they are."
Emma thanked them politely.
But as she drove home, she couldn't shake the image of the woman's face.
She hadn't looked angry.
She'd looked...
terrified.
Chapter Three
Ryan barely looked up from the television.
"How was work?"
Emma placed the shopping bags on the kitchen counter.
"I think I saw something."
Ryan muted the television.
"What?"
She explained everything.
The argument.
The car.
The registration.
The police.
He listened in silence before shrugging.
"Probably just a couple arguing."
"It didn't feel like that."
"You said yourself you didn't hear everything."
"No."
"So you don't actually know."
Emma sighed.
"I know what I saw."
Ryan stood and kissed her forehead.
"You always worry too much."
"I'm not worried."
"You are."
He smiled.
"You've watched too many true crime documentaries."
Emma forced a smile back.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe she was reading too much into it.
She wanted to believe that.
She really did.
Chapter Four
Three days later the news broke.
A young woman had been found dead in woodland fifteen miles away.
Police had not released her name.
But the photograph on the news left no doubt.
It was her.
The woman from the supermarket.
Emma's coffee slipped from her hand.
The mug shattered across the kitchen floor.
Ryan rushed in.
"What happened?"
Emma pointed silently at the television.
The reporter continued speaking.
"...police are appealing for witnesses who may have seen the victim on Tuesday evening..."
Ryan looked at Emma.
Neither of them spoke.
He picked up his phone.
"You'd better call the police."
For the first time since Tuesday...
Ryan believed her.
Chapter Five
Detectives interviewed Emma for nearly three hours.
She told them everything she could remember.
The woman's face.
The man's height.
His dark jacket.
The partial registration.
The direction the SUV had driven.
When it was over, the detective thanked her.
"You've been very helpful."
Emma hesitated.
"Do you think he knows I saw him?"
The detective smiled reassuringly.
"I wouldn't worry about that."
Emma wanted to believe him.
That evening she parked outside her house just after sunset.
As she climbed out of the car, something caught her eye.
A black estate car.
Parked fifty metres away.
Its engine was running.
She couldn't see the driver's face through the windscreen.
After a few seconds...
The headlights came on.
The car pulled away.
Maybe it was nothing.
Probably nothing.
Emma unlocked her front door.
She glanced back one last time.
The street was empty.
She stepped inside and locked the door behind her.
Neither she nor the reader yet realises...
That this is the last evening Emma will ever feel truly safe.
Chapter Six
The following morning, Emma expected another phone call from the police.
None came.
Instead, she spent the day replaying Tuesday evening in her head.
Every detail mattered now.
Had the woman tried to mouth something?
Had the man looked at her?
Had he noticed her typing the registration into her phone?
The questions refused to leave her alone.
That evening she finished work later than usual.
As she walked towards the staff car park, she instinctively looked around.
Nothing.
She laughed quietly to herself.
"You're being ridiculous."
She unlocked the car.
Placed her handbag on the passenger seat.
Then froze.
The driver's seat had been moved backwards.
Emma was only five foot four.
She drove close to the steering wheel.
Now she could barely reach the pedals.
Her breathing quickened.
She knew she hadn't left it like that.
She checked the back seats.
Empty.
Boot.
Empty.
She stood in the middle of the car park, staring at her own car.
Finally she convinced herself there had to be a reasonable explanation.
Perhaps the garage had moved it during the recent service.
Perhaps Ryan had borrowed it.
When she got home she asked him.
"I haven't driven your car in over a week."
The smile disappeared from her face.
Chapter Seven
Emma reported the car incident to the police.
The officer on the phone listened patiently.
"Was anything stolen?"
"No."
"Any damage?"
"No."
"So someone may have entered your vehicle?"
"I know someone did."
"Do you have CCTV?"
"No."
"I'm sorry, Mrs Carter, but without evidence there's very little we can investigate."
Emma gripped the phone tighter.
"So somebody can get into my car and that's not enough?"
"I understand why you're concerned."
"It isn't concern."
She lowered her voice.
"It's fear."
The officer paused.
"If anything further happens, please call us immediately."
The call ended.
Emma sat staring at the silent phone.
She suddenly understood how helpless people must feel.
Nothing counted.
Not until it became serious enough.
Not until someone got hurt.
Chapter Eight
Sleep became difficult.
Every creak of the house made Emma sit upright.
Every passing car slowed her heartbeat.
She checked the front door twice.
Then three times.
Then looked through the upstairs curtains before finally climbing into bed.
Ryan sighed.
"You've checked that door already."
"I know."
"So stop checking."
Emma remained by the window.
Across the road, a man was unloading camera equipment from the back of a van.
She'd seen him a few times before.
One of the neighbours.
He noticed her looking and gave a polite wave.
Emma awkwardly waved back before closing the curtains.
Ryan rolled over.
"Come to bed."
She did.
But she barely slept.
At 3:17 a.m., she woke suddenly.
Someone was outside.
Not because she'd heard footsteps.
Because every security light on the street had switched on at once.
She crept to the window.
The street was empty.
Or so it seemed.
Then, at the very end of the road...
A figure turned the corner and disappeared into the darkness.
Chapter Nine
The flowers arrived on Monday.
No card.
No message.
Just a bouquet of white lilies left on the doorstep.
Emma stared at them.
Ryan picked them up.
"Someone's got the wrong house."
"Maybe."
He carried them inside anyway.
Emma couldn't stop looking at them.
She didn't even like lilies.
Nobody who knew her would have sent them.
Later that afternoon another delivery arrived.
This time it was for Number 28 across the road.
As the courier left, the neighbour called over.
"Everything alright?"
Emma forced a smile.
"Yes... just strange."
He glanced at the flowers.
"No card?"
She shook her head.
"I've got a Ring camera."
He pointed towards his front door.
"If anyone came onto your drive from this direction, it might have caught them."
Emma hadn't even thought of that.
"Would you mind checking?"
"Of course."
Twenty minutes later he knocked on her door.
"I found something."
The footage showed a hooded figure walking up Emma's driveway shortly after midnight.
The face wasn't visible.
The flowers were already in their hands.
They placed them carefully beside the door.
Then looked directly towards the camera.
Almost as if they knew it was there.
Before calmly walking away.
Emma felt sick.
Someone really had been there.
Chapter Ten
The police watched the footage twice.
Then a third time.
The detective sighed.
"It's useful."
Emma leaned forward.
"So you'll investigate?"
"We'll certainly keep it."
"But?"
"But unfortunately we still can't identify the individual."
"They came onto my property."
"Yes."
"They left something."
"Yes."
"They're following me."
"We don't have evidence of that."
Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"So what exactly has to happen?"
The detective didn't answer immediately.
Finally he said quietly,
"I don't want to mislead you, Mrs Carter."
"We have CCTV of an unidentified person leaving flowers."
"At the moment..."
"...that isn't enough to prove a criminal offence."
Emma left the station feeling more frightened than when she'd arrived.
As she turned into her street, she noticed the neighbour standing outside.
He looked at her expression and immediately knew.
"They couldn't help."
Emma shook her head.
"No."
He hesitated before speaking.
"I know this might sound odd..."
"What?"
"I've noticed movement outside your house a few nights this week."
Emma looked up sharply.
"You have?"
He nodded.
"I thought it was foxes at first."
He glanced towards his own front door.
"If you're comfortable with it..."
"I've got a spare Ring camera."
"I can install one for you tomorrow."
For the first time in days...
Someone hadn't questioned whether Emma was imagining it.
Someone simply believed her.
And she hadn't realised how much she needed that.
Chapter Eleven
Daniel arrived the following evening carrying a small toolbox under one arm and a boxed Ring camera under the other.
"You don't have to pay me," he said as Emma reached for her purse.
"I'm happy to."
"I know."
He smiled.
"But I'd rather you spent the money on a takeaway after all this is over."
Emma laughed for what felt like the first time in weeks.
Ryan barely acknowledged him.
He muttered a quick "Cheers," before disappearing back inside to watch television.
Daniel noticed but didn't comment.
Within half an hour the camera was installed above the front door.
He opened the app on Emma's phone.
"It'll notify you whenever it detects movement."
Emma nodded.
"Thank you."
He hesitated.
"If you ever think someone's outside..."
She looked at him.
"...don't go out to check."
"I won't."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
As Daniel packed away his tools, Ryan finally wandered outside.
"All done?"
Daniel smiled.
"Yep."
Ryan nodded.
"Good stuff."
That was it.
No questions.
No interest.
No concern for how frightened his wife had become.
Emma watched Daniel walk back across the road.
Ryan was already back inside before the front gate had even closed.
Chapter Twelve
The notification arrived at 2:13 a.m.
Motion detected.
Emma's heart lurched.
She opened the app.
The driveway appeared.
Empty.
She replayed the recording.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
Then, on the third viewing...
A shadow crossed the very edge of the camera.
Too fast to identify.
Almost as though someone had deliberately stayed outside its field of view.
She woke Ryan.
"Look."
He rubbed his eyes.
"It's probably a cat."
"Does that look like a cat?"
"I don't know."
He handed the phone back.
"You're exhausting yourself."
"I know what I saw."
"No."
He sighed.
"You know what you think you saw."
Emma didn't argue.
She simply lay awake until sunrise.
Chapter Thirteen
Work became impossible.
Emma found herself checking reflections in windows before entering buildings.
Looking over her shoulder in supermarket aisles.
Avoiding lifts if someone else was inside.
She hated who she was becoming.
One afternoon she left work early after convincing herself the same man had walked past her office three times.
When she reached her car she stopped dead.
A folded piece of paper sat beneath the windscreen wiper.
Her hands shook as she unfolded it.
There were only four words.
I saw you too.
No signature.
No fingerprints.
Nothing.
The police took the note.
Bagged it.
Promised to examine it.
Emma already knew what they would say.
No DNA.
No CCTV.
No evidence.
Still not enough.
Chapter Fourteen
The detective's phone call came two days later.
"We've tested the note."
"And?"
"No usable fingerprints."
Emma closed her eyes.
"What now?"
"We continue investigating."
"But?"
"There still isn't enough to identify a suspect."
Emma almost laughed.
Everything seemed to end with those words.
Not enough.
Not enough evidence.
Not enough proof.
Not enough.
That evening Daniel knocked on her door.
"I thought you might like these."
He handed her a small folder.
Inside were still images from his Ring camera.
Different nights.
Different times.
The same dark figure.
Always near Emma's house.
Always leaving before sunrise.
Never once approaching Daniel's property.
Emma stared at the photographs.
"I'm not imagining it."
"No."
Daniel's voice remained calm.
"You're not."
For the first time since all this had started...
Someone said exactly what she needed to hear.
Chapter Fifteen
Rain hammered against the windows just after midnight.
Emma couldn't sleep.
The house creaked under the wind.
Her phone suddenly buzzed.
Motion detected.
She opened the live feed.
Nothing.
Then another notification.
Motion detected.
Another.
Another.
Five alerts in less than a minute.
She watched as someone walked slowly towards her front door.
Hood up.
Face hidden.
The figure stopped directly beneath the camera.
Then...
Looked up.
Very slowly.
As though making deliberate eye contact with the lens.
A gloved hand reached into a pocket.
Not for a weapon.
For a marker pen.
The figure calmly wrote two words across the camera lens.
HELLO EMMA
The screen went black.
Emma screamed.
Ryan stumbled downstairs half asleep.
"What now?"
Before she could answer...
A deafening crash echoed from downstairs.
The sound of glass shattering filled the house.
Someone...
had just come inside.
Chapter Sixteen
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hallway.
Ryan froze.
Emma didn't.
She already knew.
"Someone's inside."
Ryan looked towards the kitchen.
"No..."
Another crash.
Then footsteps.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Coming from downstairs.
Ryan grabbed the nearest thing he could find, a heavy lamp from the hallway table.
Emma whispered,
"Call the police."
Ryan's hands shook so violently he almost dropped his phone.
Before he could dial...
A loud bang came from the front door.
Someone else had entered the house.
"Police!"
"No..."
A familiar voice shouted.
"Daniel! Stay where you are!"
Emma looked towards the hallway just as Daniel burst through the open front door.
"I saw him go in!"
Everything happened at once.
The hooded man sprinted from the kitchen carrying a knife.
Daniel threw himself between Emma and the attacker.
The knife struck Daniel high in the shoulder before Ryan finally reacted, tackling the man into the hallway.
Police officers flooded through the doorway seconds later.
The struggle was over almost as quickly as it had begun.
As paramedics worked on Daniel, Emma knelt beside him.
"You idiot," she whispered through tears.
He smiled weakly.
"I told you..."
He winced.
"...don't go outside."
Chapter Seventeen
The investigation lasted months.
The stalker was finally identified.
He had a long history of violence against women.
Emma had witnessed him forcing the murdered woman into his car.
He had recognised Emma looking towards him that night.
Not because she'd recorded the registration.
Because she'd looked directly into his face.
He'd spent weeks trying to discover exactly what she'd seen.
The flowers.
The notes.
The car.
The camera.
The break in.
Everything had been part of one terrifying campaign to silence the only witness who could place him with the victim.
The trial made national headlines.
Emma gave evidence.
So did Daniel.
Ryan attended.
But barely spoke to her.
By the time the verdict was returned...
Their marriage was already over.
Chapter Eighteen
Divorce wasn't dramatic.
There were no arguments.
No shouting.
Only silence.
Ryan signed the papers.
Emma signed hers.
Neither cried.
As she packed the last box into the removal van, she realised something.
The stalking hadn't broken the marriage.
It had simply exposed what was already there.
She needed someone who believed her.
Ryan never had.
She moved over two hundred miles away to a quiet market town on the coast.
New house.
New job.
New beginning.
For six blissfully peaceful months...
Nothing happened.
No strange cars.
No anonymous flowers.
No footsteps outside.
Emma slowly remembered what normal life felt like.
Chapter Nineteen
On a rainy Saturday morning, a removal lorry pulled up outside the house next door.
Emma smiled to herself.
New neighbours.
As she carried shopping inside, someone called her name.
She turned.
Her shopping bags slipped from her hands.
"Daniel?"
He laughed in complete disbelief.
"I was about to ask if that was really you."
Neither of them could believe it.
"What are the chances?"
"I've just accepted a photography position with the local newspaper."
Emma laughed.
"I moved here for a fresh start."
"I suppose we both needed one."
Over the following weeks they slipped naturally back into friendship.
Coffee became dinner.
Dinner became long walks.
Long walks became quiet evenings talking until midnight.
There was never any pressure.
Never any expectations.
For the first time in years...
Emma felt safe.
One evening Daniel invited her over for dinner.
While he checked on the food upstairs, he called,
"Can you grab two glasses from the study? I keep the wine glasses in there."
Emma wandered into the room.
The walls were lined with framed landscape photographs.
Mountains.
Lakes.
Storms.
Old churches.
Exactly what she'd expect.
One frame made her smile.
Her old street.
Taken at sunset.
Beautifully composed.
She stepped closer.
Then stopped.
There...
In the upstairs bedroom window of Number 27...
Stood Emma.
Surrounded by moving boxes.
Completely unaware she was being photographed.
At the bottom right corner, printed in tiny white text:
14 September 2023 18:42
The day she'd moved into that house.
One full year before the stalking began.
One full year before she'd ever officially met Daniel.
She felt a chill spread through her body.
From upstairs Daniel called,
"Did you find the glasses?"
Emma stared at the photograph for another second.
Then quietly answered,
"I've got them."
Chapter Twenty
Dinner was wonderful.
They laughed.
Talked about work.
About travelling.
About everything except the past.
Walking home afterwards, Emma found herself smiling.
Maybe...
Life really had given her a second chance.
She unlocked her front door.
Made herself a cup of tea.
Sat on the sofa.
But her mind kept returning to the photograph.
Not because it proved anything.
It didn't.
Daniel was a photographer.
The picture could have been entirely innocent.
A beautiful street scene.
A coincidence.
Couldn't it?
She opened her laptop.
Without really thinking, she typed:
Land Registry, 28 Ashwood Close.
Her finger hovered over Enter.
Instead...
She deleted it.
Then typed something else.
When did Daniel Brooks buy 28 Ashwood Close?
She stared at the search box for a long time.
Finally...
She closed the laptop.
Some questions, she realised, could destroy a perfectly happy ending.
Some were better left unanswered.
She looked across the street.
Daniel was locking his front door before waving goodnight.
She smiled.
He smiled back.
She waved.
Then closed the curtains.
For a long moment she stood in the darkness.
Wondering whether she had finally escaped the nightmare...
Or whether the hardest question she'd ever have to answer...
Had only just begun.
The End.
Comments
Post a Comment