Girl A, Dan Scottow [best short books to read .TXT] 📗

around her in the water like weeds in a lake. She exhaled, screwing her eyes tightly shut once more, wishing she could sink down further, beyond the base of the tub, away from this place. Away from this life. She exhaled the air from her lungs steadily, bubbles rising up above her head.

And then she remembered Daisy. Her pure, perfect little Daisy. And that was enough to will her to stay and fight.

She raised her head above the surface, pushing her hands up over her face and through her hair, pressing the excess water from it.

She drained the last of the wine, toying with the idea of opening another bottle but deciding against it. She had to work in the morning.

Her phone buzzed again.

‘Mikey. Please leave me alone,’ she whispered to the empty house.

The next song boomed from the speakers. A nineties trip-hop tune, which she remembered, but the name of which eluded her.

She and Charlie had danced to it in a club when they had first started dating. She smiled at the memory, wondering if she would ever dance with him again.

She sighed, reaching down to the floor to retrieve her phone. The message wasn’t from Mikey.

Her heart thumped as she opened it.

A picture filled her screen.

Despite the temperature of the bath, she shivered.

It was the front of her house, snapped from right outside.

She sat up, turning around to see behind her.

No movement through the steam. Nothing untoward. No dark figure lurking outside the door in the clouds of white.

The phone buzzed again in her hand. She glanced down, holding her breath.

A series of images filled her message inbox.

As she began to scroll through them, Beth felt panic spread over her.

She saw herself, a few minutes earlier, slipping the robe from her shoulders. Then in another, standing naked in the bathroom. She felt sick as she stared at a photo of herself testing the water with her hand.

All shot from inside the house. From the landing. She spun round again, staring out into the darkness. Trying to figure out the vantage point from which images had been snapped.

Someone had been near the top of the stairs, watching her.

The phone buzzed once more.

Another picture.

Beth naked, her head under the water, eyes screwed shut. Her hair splayed out around her, bubbles rising to the surface. Taken from above her. The bastard had been standing next to the bath.

It would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been so damn terrifying.

She sprang up, grabbing her robe, covering herself. She slipped it on quickly as she tiptoed out of the bathroom.

The hypnotic beat faded out, and another song began.

Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’ echoed around the house. Beth stopped the music from her phone.

It buzzed again.

Another picture. Beth sitting up in the bath, looking at her screen.

‘I’m calling the police!’ Beth screamed out into the darkness.

Her phone vibrated in her hand.

No you won’t.

‘I will!’ she screeched. ‘I’m dialling right now, so you better get out of my house! You hear me?’

She heard the front door clatter against the hall wall. She ran down the stairs. A blast of icy air against her hot flesh made her feel dizzy.

She rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a carving knife from the block on the counter. Holding it out in front of her, arm trembling, she edged forwards.

‘Hello?’ Beth shouted.

Silence.

She moved slowly towards the front of the house, standing at the perimeter, looking out into the drive. The security light was on. No movement. She shivered.

Her breath swirled in patterns, mixing with the steam rising from her hot, wet flesh. She stepped out, wincing, as the gravel dug into her bare feet. She hopped backwards onto the carpet.

Shutting herself in, she slid the chain in place.

But what if he’s still inside? she thought, turning her back to the wall, knife held out ahead. She did a quick scout of the ground floor. Satisfied all the rooms were empty, she made her way up the stairs. Daisy’s room first. All as it should be. Peter’s room was still empty. She stuck her head in. Just to be sure. She pushed her own bedroom door, and it creaked open.

An emerald-green scarf sat neatly folded in the middle of her bed. She recognised it immediately.

The last time she saw it, it had been bound in a knot around Zoe’s neck, under the floorboards in the barn.

44

Beth didn’t go to work the following day. She’d hardly slept. She sat in bed all night, clutching a knife to her chest. In the morning, she phoned her boss, claiming to have a migraine. Chloe wished her a speedy recovery, and the deed was done. Beth had called in sick when she wasn’t, for the first time in her life. But she felt this warranted it.

She hadn’t even showered today. Another first.

As she paced the kitchen, drinking an especially strong coffee, she heard tyres on gravel outside, and she held her breath.

Footsteps crunched across the drive.

She glanced towards the knife beside her on the counter. Picking it up, she tiptoed into the hall, edging her way towards the door.

A dark figure approached the glass. The sound of a key in the lock.

Beth stood silently, raising her weapon aloft, ready to swipe at her attacker. The door swung open and Beth took a step forward.

Charlie stood in the doorway. The blade clattered to the floor.

‘Charlie! What are you doing here?’

‘Jesus Christ, Beth! What’s going on? Are you okay?’

‘Not really. Why are you here?’

Charlie picked up the knife, pushing the door closed behind him. He placed a hand on Beth’s shoulder and guided her back down the hall into the kitchen.

‘Is there any more of that?’ Charlie nodded towards the coffee.

Beth poured him a cup, sliding it across the worktop.

‘I went to your office, they told me you were sick.’

‘Right.’

‘So what’s going on?’

Beth fished her mobile out of her dressing-gown pocket and unlocked it, presenting Charlie with the messages from the previous evening.

‘My God…’ Charlie whispered. He swiped the screen.

‘He was in here. With me. And I didn’t