Tania Carver: The Surrogate

She saw Martin Fletcher advancing towards her out of the corner of her eye again, felt blind, trapped panic rise in her chest. She blinked him away, breathed deeply.

She kept her voice low, contained. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s… it’s not really the kind of thing we can discuss over the phone. Best if we talk in person.’

She felt a shiver run through her. Say no. Say no. Say no . ‘Okay. Where…’

‘I’ll get a car sent to pick you up.’

‘When?’

‘No time like the present.’

‘But I’m… busy. Clients…’The words sounded weak, even to her ears.

Fenwick sighed, evidently thinking again. ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, but with all due respect, Marina, I think when you hear what I’ve got to say, you may find it takes precedence.’

She said nothing, thought. He took her silence as a need for more explanation, reassurance.

‘Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. We all are. It was horrific, unacceptable. Totally. If there was… if we could have done things differently…’

‘Not your fault,’ she said, her voice small and unconvincing.

He sounded relieved. ‘It won’t be like that this time. I promise. I give you my word.’

Despite everything she felt a slight thrill at Fenwick’s words. Perhaps enough time had passed to want to get away from the office. Like childbirth, she thought with a grim smile, the memory of the pain dissipates so you can go through it again.

‘Okay, send the car. Give me a couple of hours.’

‘Can you come quicker? It really is urgent.’

‘Right away then. I’m standing outside Leisure World. Tell the driver to hurry. It’s freezing here.’

‘Thank you, Marina. He’ll find you.’

She put the phone away while he was still thanking her. Smiled to herself. Didn’t even attempt to suppress the thrill that ran through her. Whatever they wanted her for must be bad, she thought. Psychosexual deviance was what she specialised in.

Another shudder went through her. Phil. She would be working with Phil.

She had tried to put him out of her mind. Concentrate on her life with Tony, the impending baby. But there he was again, Fenwick’s phone call summoning him up. He didn’t dress like any of the other coppers, but his clothes always showed off his broad shoulders and slim waist. She had thought he played rugby when she first met him but she soon found out that wasn’t him. He wore his childhood on his face; the nose that had been broken and reset, the small scars he still carried from fights that only showed up when he was angry. But it was the eyes she remembered most. The eyes that had drawn her in. His melancholic, poet’s eyes. Because when she talked to him, he listened. Actually looked her in the eye and listened. He would remind her a few days later of something she had said, proving it. And it wasn’t a trick, an affectation, it was the way he was. She imagined how this could make him a good policeman, but it had done something more to her. Made her feel wanted, special.

No wonder she fell for him. And now she would be working with him again. Well, things were going to be different this time. They would have to be. Because she might have told Fenwick that what happened with Martin Fletcher wasn’t his fault. But with Phil it was a different story.

Her cab chose that moment to arrive. She waved him off, told him he’d taken too long. The driver got out, started to argue, but the arrival of a police car behind him and the presence of a policeman seemed to shut him up.

Marina got in the passenger door of the police car.

Hoped this would be just the displacement activity she needed to take her mind off her own troubles.

He watched them go in and he watched them come out.They didn’t see him, didn’t even know he was there. Not a clue. So sure were they of their place in the world, their importance in it. Safely inside their own protective little bubble.They would soon find out how unsafe they were.

Or at least one of them would.

He knew they wouldn’t see him. He was too good for that. Prided himself on it. Sitting in the car park of Colchester’s Leisure World, a clear view of the front entrance, just far enough back not to attract any attention. But he could see them. Talking and laughing as they emerged from their yoga session, their full, distended bellies sticking out in front of them.

Surrogates. All of them. If he wanted them to be.

He had the list, knew which one would come next. Knew the order.

It wasn’t for the babies. He didn’t care about that. It was all about the hunt. Planning. Preparation. The chase.The thrill.The kill. He had always enjoyed hunting. The breed of animal was unimportant.

There she was, his next prey. She had stopped to talk to another one on the pavement.This one didn’t have such a big belly; in fact she was barely showing at all. His prey wanted the new one to go with them. But she wouldn’t. His prey didn’t seem too bothered, just walked away with her pack.

Past his own vehicle. Didn’t even stop to look at him. He grinned. An invisible god with the power of life and death.

She got into her own car, drove away.

He didn’t need to follow her. He knew where she was going. He would catch up with her later. Instead he turned his attention back to the one left on the pavement.The new one who didn’t want to go with them. He shouldn’t have been interested in her but he was.There was something about her. She was alone, apart from the pack. But not because of weakness.The opposite, he sensed.A strength, an attitude.

He smiled. He liked that in his prey. A challenge. Something to work with. Something to break down.

He knew he should be driving away, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She wasn’t like the others. He sensed cunning, intelligence. Just from the way she stood, her body language as she talked on her phone. There was nothing he could do about her now, but she would be filed away. And one day, at a time of his own choosing, he would come back for her.

And then he would have fun.

He was about to start his engine when a taxi arrived. She bent down, spoke to the driver.The driver wasn’t happy with what she said. There was going to be a fight. He sat back, watching. This would be interesting. But before anything could happen, another car pulled up and the driver got out.There was no mistaking who this person was. Even if he didn’t know him, he knew the type. A policeman. He could see that from here.

The taxi driver drove away, clearly unhappy. The woman got into the unmarked police car and was driven away.

Interesting. Curious. He would look out for her, watch for her. She wouldn’t be forgotten.

With nothing else to stay there for, he turned the ignition, drove away.

She had been marked.

It was nearly lunchtime when Phil Brennan turned the Audi off the main road. Aware of the constant ticking of the clock, he had made the drive to Braintree as fast as he could. He had pushed the Audi to the legal limit, done everything short of sticking the siren on the roof.

The satnav pinged, informing them that they had reached their destination. Clayton Thompson reached across the dashboard and turned it off.

‘Hate those things,’ he said.

‘Thought you’d be all for them. Know how you love a gadget.’

Clayton shrugged. ‘Yeah, but it’s just their smug little voices. Like the top brass have put them here to spy on us. Like we have to stick to the journey. If we know a short cut or a better route they tell us we can’t use it, that they know best.’