Tania Carver: The Creeper

Anni looked at the photo. It clearly showed Suzanne asleep with her T-shirt pulled up to her breasts, exposing her body. Her legs were open. She leaned in closer, squinting. The cut was clearly visible.

She looked back to Suzanne. The mug fell to the floor, the remaining liquid spilling out. Suzanne looked at it as if not understanding what it was. Then her head dropped, her shoulders moved rhythmically back and forwards.

Anni had no option but to let her cry.

Eventually, Suzanne found her voice. ‘I’m not – not lying…’

‘I didn’t -’

‘I’m not making it up.’

‘I didn’t say you were.’

Suzanne looked up, an angry fire fighting through the tears. ‘I wasn’t then and I’m not now. Right?’

‘You weren’t doing what then?’

Suzanne looked away, regained composure. ‘Nothing.’

‘What did you mean, Suzanne? Was it something to do with your ex-boyfriend Mark?’

She wiped her face with the sleeve of her dressing gown. Sat back, exhausted. ‘I can’t talk any more…’

Anni knew that was all she would be getting. For now. She leaned forward once more. ‘Suzanne, I’d like you to come with me.’

Suzanne sat back, fear and distrust on her face. ‘Where? Why?’

‘To the station.’ Anni’s voice was all calmness and reason once more. ‘I’d like you to be seen by a doctor.’

Anni nodded. ‘It’ll be sensitively handled. It won’t hurt. And I’d also like your consent to a blood test on top of that.’

‘Why?’

‘To see if you’ve got anything in your system that could have made you feel bad this morning. Other than a glass of red wine and chocolate, of course.’ She smiled. Suzanne didn’t return it.

‘OK?’

Suzanne nodded, her face slack, empty, like she was still in a dream. She stood up, her body moving like a somnambulist’s.

Anni told her to come as she was and bring a change of clothing to go home in. Suzanne numbly walked to the bedroom to do so. Anni watched her go. As Suzanne reached the doorway, she turned.

‘Do you… The door, I’ll, I’ll… keep it open.’

‘I’ll be here.’

Suzanne took a bag from the wardrobe, began to throw clothes into it. She was clearly traumatised, thought Anni, but something was off. Suzanne Perry was holding something back, hiding something. Never mind. While Suzanne was in the rape suite Anni would be at her computer running background checks.

Whatever it was, it wouldn’t stay hidden for long.

The Creeper was missing Rani.

She had gone out. Left the flat with that black girl, the police officer. Left him alone. He didn’t mind. As long as she wasn’t too long. He would get lonely if she was away too long. Miss her. That wouldn’t do. And if she was away too long he would be angry with her.

And she really didn’t want that.

But he knew what to do. How to fill in the time until she returned, make it feel as if she was there with him.

The door clicked shut. He waited, counted to a thousand, then came out. Looked round. Felt anger rise within him. The police had left the place in a real mess. That wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair at all. Maybe he should tidy up. A treat for Rani coming home. Or maybe not. Might make her cry again.

He smiled. He liked it when she cried. Made him feel like his love was working, like she wanted him.

He went into the kitchen. Thought about making himself a cup of tea. Decided not to. He wasn’t in the mood. He looked across the hall to the bedroom. Smiled.

He knew what he was in the mood for.

He went into the bedroom. It was only a few hours since he had been in here with her, his beautiful Rani, but it felt longer. So much longer. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Held it as long as he could. Let it go. Smiled. He could smell her. Her perfume, her skin, her clothes… everything. He opened the wardrobe door, looked at her clothes hanging there. Traced his fingers along, felt the fabric of her skirts, her jeans, her dresses. Slowly caressing, imagining being next to her skin…

Then away from the wardrobe. He knew what was coming next. Could feel it. He went to the sideboard, opened the second drawer down on the right. Rani’s underwear drawer. He smiled. Put his hands in.

He ignored the everyday stuff. The boring cotton drip catchers. Went straight for the flimsy, filmy gossamers. Rubbed the sheer fabric between his fingers. Imagined her in them…

The Creeper was getting hard. He knew what was coming next.

He chose the pair of knickers he wanted. Black and dirty-pink, all sheer and see-through, lace and bows. Then lay down on the bed, undid his flies. Got comfortable, in the right position. And with her knickers in his hand, he closed his eyes, summoned her.

And there she was before him. Vividly alive, realer than real, better than life. His fingers moved slowly. He felt the fabric against his skin, whispered her name.

‘Rani…’ Sighed again. Smiled again. His heart pumping, butterflies fluttering in his stomach from just hearing it said aloud. ‘Rani…’

And she answered him. As she always did. I’m here … for you …

Rani was her real name. Her secret name. He didn’t care what name she went by, what she called herself day to day. Because he knew what she really looked like, who she really was. She had told him. Revealed herself to him.

He sighed. His fingers moved faster, heart picking up speed.

‘Rani…’

Yes, my love?

‘I’ve been with you all day… did you see me?’

I did …

‘I was with you this morning, there when you opened your eyes.’ He paused, gave a small laugh. ‘You looked funny. When you got up you could hardly walk.’

She laughed also. I’m glad I make you laugh.

He felt a thrill course through him at her words. Quickened his pace. ‘Last night… I felt so close to you…’

And I you …

‘Did you like my present?’

Loved it …

His little valentine. His declaration of love and intent.

I’M WATCHING OVER YOU

He’d spent a long time working on that sentence, trying to find words that expressed not only his love for her, but also his devotion. Her own personal guardian angel. And he thought he had achieved it. Proud of it.

‘You cried when you saw it…’

I did …

His fingers moved faster at the thought, no longer butterflies in his stomach, more like finches trapped in a barn.

But then…

That thing caught inside him. That niggle, that thought, working away at him like a worm in an apple…

‘Oh Rani…’

Sadness overwhelmed him. Like he hadn’t felt for ages, not since… before. He tried not to think of it, let his mind go back there. Concentrate on the present. On Rani. On his love. But it was difficult.

Other memories, other voices, would fill his head and the butterflies, the swallows, would leave his stomach, and something else, something more dangerous, would take their place. A serpent, hard, cold and coiled in the depths of his guts, hissing acid inside him, poisoning him with fear and hate.

And its voice… all that anger, that hate… All women are whores … every one … use them like whores … that’s all they’re good for …

‘No… no…’

Cut them, slice them …

It wasn’t him. Not now. Not any more. He had to do something, drive the voice out, repeat his mantra, defeat the snake. ‘Out of the cleansing fire I was born and he was lost…’ Keep going… ‘Out of the cleansing fire her soul was freed when her body was lost…’ Keep going… ‘Out of the cleansing fire was born my search and love to be found…’