We watch you a dark psyc.., p.1
We Watch You: A dark psychological thriller with a speculative twist, page 1
N S Ford
We Watch You
Copyright © 2021 by N S Ford
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
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For my family
Contents
The Watcher
Chapter 1
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 2
Report No.1
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 3
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 4
Report No. 2
TJ’s Mind Space
Letter
Chapter 5
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 6
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 7
The Investigator
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 8
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 9
Report No. 3
TJ’s Mind Space
Letter
Chapter 10
The Influencer
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 11
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 12
TJ’s Mind Space
Letter
Chapter 13
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 14
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 15
The Collaborator
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 16
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 17
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 18
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 19
The Stranger
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 20
TJ’s Mind Space
Letter
Chapter 21
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 22
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 23
TJ’s Mind Space
Chapter 24
The Protector
Acknowledgements
About the Author
The Watcher
I never fail to be amazed at the human capacity for self-delusion. You tell yourselves that everything is all right, when the case is clearly the opposite. You pretend that nothing out of the ordinary is happening, when the evidence is in front of your eyes. Even if you did grasp the truth, there is nothing you could do about it. It is better that you never find out.
Do not ask too many questions.
We watch you.
Chapter 1
‘Hello? Are you there?’ The recorded voice pauses. ‘Maybe you haven’t seen the news today…’
There’s a stifled sob.
‘Lauren. Something really bad has happened. We need to talk about it. Please call me back.’
End of message. I stare at my phone. I can hardly believe that the caller is Jess. Her voice is too strange. Panicked, unfamiliar. I check the number, just to be sure it’s her.
Yes. Jess called me.
Shivering, I wrap the towel tighter around my body. My wet hair, recently combed, clings to my neck. The night sky seems to press at the steamed-up windows. I want to push it back. Closing the blinds, I worry over her words. ‘Something really bad has happened.’ Jess is normally so confident, ready for anything. What can have caused her such distress? If I hadn’t been in the bathroom when she called, I would know by now.
I put my phone down on the bed. I think about Jess.
We’ve been best friends for a long time. Since nursery school, in fact. Twenty-five years of friendship, supporting each other through all kinds of troubles. She’s always been braver than me.
‘You’ve got a heart of steel,’ I said to her once, after one of her break-ups.
‘I know,’ she’d said, smiling. ‘No one can hold me back.’
The number of friends I have can be counted on one hand. I find it very difficult to forge new relationships. It’s easier to stick to those I’ve grown up with. I know Jess extremely well, which is why I’m even more disturbed now that I’ve heard the message.
There was something else in her voicemail. Fear.
I’ve never known her to be scared of anything before.
My apprehension grows. I don’t want to call her, I don’t want to find out what’s happened, but the longer I hesitate, the more nervous I’ll become. Just ten minutes ago, I was so pleased with myself after completing a 5k run without stopping. As I soaped my aching body under the shower, I was thinking that I’d earned the pot of chocolate mousse which was waiting for me in the fridge. Now, the happiness has gone. The hunger has gone too, replaced by dread.
Reluctant, I reach out again for my phone.
I flip open the red leather case. My legs are weak. They won’t support me, so I slip clumsily to the floor. The wooden boards are harsh beneath my knees as I scroll through my news feed, my index finger pulling up and discarding the latest headlines. I shift to a cross-legged position and the towel loosens, leaving me exposed and chilly.
The national news is the same as usual. Another fatal stabbing in the capital. A terrorist plot foiled. An inquiry into an abuse scandal at a care home. All very depressing, but nothing that justifies Jess’s message, nothing that stands out to me. I move on to the local news.
Straight away, I see it. Today’s top story for the county.
A photo of someone I know.
‘No,’ I whisper. I stare at the image.
The headline says: ‘Fears for missing woman.’
My heart thuds. With a trembling fingertip, I touch the link and read on.
‘Tina Jameson, 29, has been missing from her home in Becksley since Wednesday morning. She is described as white, of average height, with long blonde hair. She was last seen wearing black trousers, a grey jacket and white trainers.’
The article says that anyone with information is being urged to phone the police.
I’m not going to do that. I don’t know anything. Or at least nothing useful to them.
My eyes are drawn again to the picture of Tina. By the look of her, it was taken at least two years ago. She’s outdoors, in a garden. The back garden of her home, possibly. Her brown eyes are half-shut against the summer sun. Her hair is bright, almost white in the glare. She’s smiling broadly, as if she hasn’t a care in the world. The camera is lying. Tina had a ton of worries and it was all my fault.
All my fault. This is the truth.
Jess and Claire were part of this, but out of the three of us, only I had the power to end it. I chose not to.
And now she could be dead.
I stumble to my feet, rewrap my towel and ring Jess. She answers immediately.
‘Lauren! Oh my God, have you seen the news?’
‘Tina,’ I say.
‘I know. I just… I can’t believe it.’ Jess’s voice trembles.
‘Me neither,’ I say.
There’s a pause. I grope for words. ‘I hope she’s found soon.’
‘Yeah,’ Jess breathes out a sigh. ‘I wonder if she, you know…’
‘What?’ I prompt her. I hate it when people say ‘you know’, because it’s never obvious to me what they mean.
Jess almost whispers it. ‘If she decided to OD.’
‘No, please don’t say that.’ The horrible idea has crossed my mind, of course it has, but I’m not going to admit it. ‘No one’s suggesting… that. She’s only been missing for two days. She could have, I don’t know, gone for a hike and got lost. We can’t assume anything.’ My voice sounds oddly composed, as if someone else is speaking out of my mouth. I’m thinking that the panic hasn’t risen to the surface yet. I’m trying to prepare for that moment. The point at which I’m losing control because I have no idea what to do.
Jess says, ‘I’ve got an awful feeling about this. I’m sure she’s…’ Her voice trails off.
Dead?
I don’t contradict her. I’m afraid that Jess’s feeling is correct.
Her breath rasps into my ear. ‘I’ve talked to Claire. She’s in shock.’
‘I bet she is.’ I try to picture Claire’s reaction. My other best friend. Wide open eyes, a shake of the head, fumbling for the right expression. Claire’s always been the cleverest of the three of us. Her vivid imagination and way with words gained her an English Literature degree. She’s full of contradictions and once described herself as a crusty baguette. Tough on the outside, soft in the middle. We joked that her nickname would be ‘baguette’. None of us actually have nicknames, although sometimes my name is contracted, so I become ‘Loz’.
I remember when we were out celebrating her birthday last year.
We’re having fun trying different cocktails. Mocktails, in Claire’s case. Rainbow colours in frosted glasses. As I tip my head back to finish my drink, I see that two guys are approaching our table. I nudge Jess with one of my elbows and Claire with my other. We watch the intruders. One of them is tall, ginger-haired. The other is darker and stocky. They’re smiling at us. If they’re on the pu
‘I’m sure we’ve met before.’ She knocks back her drink and then squints at them both critically through the empty glass. They stare at her, their smiles fading. ‘You ever done time? I’m a prison officer and you two seem familiar. Yes, I remember now. You were in for robbery.’ She points at the stockier man. He starts to protest but she continues loudly. ‘You had a black eye when you were brought in. Kicked up a right fuss, had to be restrained. And you,’ she narrows her eyes at his friend, ‘you’re an arsonist. You set fire to a tanning salon. For some reason I remember you were always complaining about the quality of the toilet paper. I kept telling you, it’s prison, not the Ritz, you can’t expect luxury loo roll.’
There’s an awkward silence. I focus on my drink, eyes downcast as I sip through a straw. Jess presses my foot under the table.
‘Hey,’ one of the guys says, I can’t see which. ‘Chill out. We only wanted to say hello. You girls have a nice night.’ When I look up, they’ve vanished.
Relieved, I shoot a grin at Claire. ‘Prison officer?’ I start to giggle.
Claire is poker faced. ‘Why not?’
I consider this. ‘On second thoughts, you’d be perfect. Except you’re always losing your house keys, car keys, phone, purse…’
‘You have a point, my friend.’ She nods wisely and taps her empty glass. ‘Let’s have another round,’ she decides. Jess whoops and goes over to the bar.
Me and Jess are her closest friends. We understand her, although not many others do. She has a sharp sense of humour and anyone is a legitimate target. It’s rare that she’ll open up about her feelings, but we don’t push her. She confides in us when she needs to.
Now, with Tina missing, Claire must be feeling terrible. But I think she might be defensive too. I can just imagine her making excuses, once she’s got over the initial shock. Saying that Tina made her choice, that we had nothing do with it, when I know that we had everything to do with it.
The phone is hot against my left ear.
Jess says, ‘We’re meeting up tomorrow, Lauren. We need to talk. The Polka Dot, at three.’
Saturday afternoon. I used to spend the weekend with him. Now, I go shopping or running or I meet my friends. Sometimes I just stay at home, watching films and eating biscuits. Even if I had something planned, I’d drop it for a meeting this important.
‘I’ll be there.’
‘OK.’ Jess breathes out audibly, as if calming herself. ‘See you then. Take care.’
‘You too,’ I say. She ends the call first and I listen to the tone. Impersonal. A dead, flat noise.
Slowly, I pad to the bedroom to change into my pyjamas. Then, out of habit, I go to the kitchen and make a cup of tea, but I can’t drink it. My stomach is churning. It’s only nine in the evening but I decide to have an early night. Once I’m in bed, in the dark, I can’t sleep. When I close my eyes, all I can see is Tina.
Tina swinging from a rope. Tina slashing her wrists. Tina swallowing a handful of pills.
Her bloodshot eyes are staring at me. A finger is pointing at me.
Accusing.
* * *
Eventually I give up trying to sleep. I switch on the bedside lamp, push back the duvet, sip some water. Three in the morning, according to my alarm clock. Everything feels unreal. The world seems to have changed since I heard about Tina’s disappearance. I wish this was only a dream, a long nightmare. If only I could wake up and be relieved to find that Tina isn’t missing after all.
I know I’m not dreaming. I’ve never felt more awake.
Emerging from the bedroom, I turn all the lights on in the flat, shading my eyes while they adjust to the brightness. The white painted walls look yellow. They make me think of bile. My nausea worsens and I fight down the feelings that rise unpleasantly in my stomach. Suddenly I feel too warm, so I take off my pyjamas and let the air cool my skin.
I pace around the living room, my bare feet treading the boards over and over. I want to go for a run, but I’m not venturing outdoors at this time of night. Becksley is a safe kind of town, compared with some others, but if anyone dodgy is hanging around, looking for victims, it’s probably right now. You can’t be too careful.
Instead, I put on my sports bra and do some exercises. Stretches, bends, marching on the spot. Swinging my arms. Swivelling my hips. Star jumps, too many star jumps.
I keep going until I’m sweating all over and my breaths are gasps. ‘Forty-eight,’ I count, forcing my arms and legs outwards. ‘Forty-nine,’ my heart pumping too fast. ‘Fifty!’ I collapse on to the sofa. I’ve pushed myself hard, but focusing on the movements helps me to forget my worries. The forgetfulness is only temporary, and the lurching feeling in my gut soon returns.
Tina. What happened to her?
Where is she?
Will she be found?
I think of articles I’ve read, headlines from over the years. People have vanished, in suspicious circumstances or otherwise, and never been seen again. I find this fascinating, in a grim way. I suspect that I’m not alone in that. But now that this involves someone I know, it’s not fascinating at all. It’s tragic. I feel a chill when I imagine Tina frozen in time, smiling out from old news headlines and then conveniently forgotten by everyone except the few who know her. The trail running out, evidence thin on the ground. Not enough information. Becoming a cold case. Possibly an entry on Wikipedia’s ‘List of people who have disappeared mysteriously’. Until some point in the future, ten or twenty or even a hundred years ahead, when the remains are finally found or new evidence is brought to light. Or even worse, to be forever an unsolved mystery.
‘Tina,’ I say. I feel stupid, because I know she can’t hear me. ‘Tina, where are you? If you’re out there, if you’re -’
Alive.
‘Please come home. And I want to tell you that I’m sorry. So sorry.’
My eyes grow hot, blurring my vision. I don’t want to cry, so I blink fiercely to hold the tears back. I know that if I start to cry, I’ll never stop.
Tina Jameson. She used to be my friend. I became her enemy.
TJ’s Mind Space
08/05/2015 - My first blog post!
Hi there, folks. How are you doing? My name is Tina, I’m 26 and I live in the UK. Nice to meet you!
Welcome to TJ’s Mind Space! This is my shiny new personal blog about what’s going on in my life, my thoughts, random stuff. To be honest, I’m not really expecting anyone else to read it. There’s no reason for you to follow the ramblings of some girl you’ve never met. But as you’ve found me, then I just want to say hello. I hope you like reading my blog posts. OK, so I haven’t written anything else yet, but I will. I promise you.
Here are 5 things about me:
1. I love coffee. I’m an addict who can’t even function until they’ve had three cups of it. Sounds terrible but there are worse vices, I think?
2. I live in a small town in the Midlands. It’s not a bad place. I mean, I was born here and I still haven’t left. That must count for something, right?
3. Family means everything to me. There aren’t many people I’m close to. Just my mum and my sister, really. We’re a family of three. A household of two, as my sister lives in London.
4. I write poetry. No one taught me how, but I don’t think there are any rules to it. You just write what you feel. If you’re lucky (or is that unlucky, ha ha) I’ll put some of my poems on here.
5. I’ve had depression for pretty much all of my life, but it’s got worse in the last ten years. Very few people know about it… and now everyone on the internet does, I guess! I’ve tried different medications. Sometimes they help a little, but the negative feelings and low mood are always there. That’s why my blog is called TJ’s Mind Space. I can spill my thoughts and feelings over into this little corner of the web.
Well, that’s all for now. Thanks for stopping by. See you soon!
Tina xx
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