Val McDermid - The Vanishing Point

‘Was Jimmy bothered?’

She shook her head. ‘Not in the least. He looked bewildered for a minute when we came running across the playground. Scarlett scooped him up and we took off in the opposite direction. But that was the last straw for me. First I googled stalking to see what remedies I might have. There’s a law, the Protection from Harassment Act, that sounds like it should do the trick. Stalkers, in theory, can face criminal charges or you can take civil proceedings against them. Injunctions and the like. I felt quite cheerful about it. I made an appointment to speak to a police officer at my local station. She was really sympathetic, but the problem was that Pete had been very careful about the content of his texts and emails. He hadn’t done anything in the street that could have been construed as an assault or a threat. At least, not in terms of the criminal law. There was nothing she could do.’

‘Not even a quiet word?’

Stephanie’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. ‘That’s the irony. If the police spoke to Pete without good legal reason, they’d be the ones doing the harassing. It’s crazy, isn’t it?’

Not for the first time, Vivian felt the frustration of due process. But this wasn’t the time or the place to get into that. ‘So there was nothing?’

‘She suggested I talk to a lawyer. The civil courts have a lower standard of proof, you see. So I made an appointment with a lawyer who specialises in this kind of case and it turned out that, even with a lower standard of proof, I didn’t have enough against Pete to take out an injunction. It would have been different if I’d reported the criminal damage to my house when it happened. But her advice was to go away and keep a log of everything he said and did. Then come and see her again for another expensive appointment in three months’ time.’ Stephanie shook her head, wondering. ‘Obviously, she didn’t mention the expense. That was just my cynical take on it. The bottom line was, you’re on your own, sister. The law was not on my side.’

‘I take it he persisted.’

‘He persisted, all right.’

26

Scarlett was waiting for me in the car after I’d seen the lawyer. I told her the verdict and she swore like a football hooligan then said, ‘That is just so wrong. He can do what the fuck he likes. Get in your face as much as he wants. And there’s fuck-all you can do? He needs sorting out, he does. I tell you, Steph, I still know some lads in Leeds who’d be happy to come down and do him over.’

‘No, I told you. That’s not the way to go. Apart from anything else, what happens if one of your old mates makes a secret recording of you putting the word out then sells it to the papers? All your hard work over the past year goes straight down the tubes. Not to mention you get arrested for conspiracy to have somebody beaten up.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘We’ve got to find another way to get him.’

Scarlett pouted. ‘And so far you’ve come up with zilch.’

‘Yeah, well. I’ve been giving this some thought. And I’ve decided that I’m going to sell the house. No estate agent’s board, no details in their window. Just a very discreet word of mouth to the people on their books. Then one day Pete the Bastard will turn up to follow me to the bus stop and it won’t be me who walks out of the front door.’

Scarlett looked dumbstruck. ‘Can you do that?’

‘It won’t be easy, but yeah, I think so. Every time there’s going to be a viewing, I’ll make sure I act as a decoy. I’ll trail him all over town on a jolly while the agent’s showing the property to prospective buyers. The day before the move, I’ll let him follow me to the Eurostar and we’ll toddle off to Paris for a couple of days.’

Scarlett laughed with delight. ‘You are one clever bitch, Steph. And where are you going to live then?’

‘I thought I might come and crash with you for a few months. What do you say?’

She did a little shoulder-and-hand jive in the seat. ‘Cool, cool, very fucking cool,’ she said. ‘We’ll have a right laugh.’ She frowned. ‘You never told him about Leanne, did you?’

I shook my head. ‘No way. That was our secret. He knows nothing that can damage you, believe me. I’ve always been very discreet. That’s how I protect my investment.’ I gave her a friendly punch on the arm. ‘Are you OK with me moving in for a bit?’

‘Stay as long as you want. I like having you around.’

‘I like being around. But I’ll be honest, the big advantage for me in staying with you over any of my other mates is that I’ve got a proper place to work. Somewhere that’s not in the way, so I don’t feel like I’m imposing,’ I added hastily, in case she thought a workroom of my own was the only reason I preferred her place.

‘Not to mention the high wall and the security gates,’ Scarlett said. ‘He could sit out there for bloody days and never get so much as a glimpse of you.’

‘He doesn’t even know where it is. Just the general area.’

She snorted. ‘He’ll find out. All he has to do is ask around the pubs. It might cost him twenty quid, but there’s plenty ready to shop me. For all the good it’ll do him. Like I said, he’s not going to be able to pester you behind my walls. Not now we’ve got the broken glass.’ She pretended to wince.

‘Thanks, Scarlett. I appreciate it.’

‘And I mean it. Stay as long as you want.’ She shrugged. ‘Make it permanent, if you want.’

‘That’s kind. And no disrespect, but I like having a place of my own. I just need to think about where I want to be then find a house that fits the bill. If I can get a bit of breathing space at yours, I won’t be rushing into the wrong choice, making it too easy for him to find me.’

We set off through the afternoon traffic, hoping to make it back to Essex before the roads grew too congested. Scarlett’s offer was kind, but if I’m honest, I couldn’t stomach the idea of living in the fake-tan belt permanently. Not to mention the fact that I’d never see any of my other friends, for whom Essex loomed large in the imagination as a wasteland devoid of culture, cuisine and conversation. I hadn’t made my mind up where I was going to settle, except that I knew it would be outside London. And not Essex.

‘You need to get a new phone as well,’ Scarlett said. ‘And a new email address. Just for your mates and for Maggie. You don’t want to be dealing with his shit on a day-to-day basis, but you do need to keep a record of it.’

What she said made sense. And I’d deal with it in the morning. I’d hoped for a different outcome from the day. I’d hoped it would end with Pete in a police interview room or about to be served with court papers for an injunction hearing. But it wasn’t the end of the world. One way or another, I was determined not to have my life defined by one twisted inadequate.

Realising I wasn’t the only one being stalked by a twisted inadequate probably shouldn’t have made me feel better, but it did. Within days of me setting up base camp at Scarlett’s, Leanne came back from a night on the town bursting with indignation. It soon became clear that her anger was covering a much deeper seam of unease.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, defiantly smoking, scowling into a mug of tea. She didn’t look up as I brewed a coffee and sat down opposite her.

‘Rough night?’ I said.

‘You have no idea.’

‘What happened? A few too many cocktails?’

‘Huh. I wish. No, I got monstered by this mad fucking stalker chick who thinks Scarlett is her best mate because she donated a few signed boxes of Scarlett Smile to some fucking charity fundraiser. I’d barely walked in the place when she started hovering, doing that, “Don’t you remember me, babe?” thing. It’s always a bit dodgy when they pull that because I’ve got no idea whether they really know Scarlett or not, you know? So I have to busk it. Like, pretend I’ve got a shit memory for faces. Anyway, I thought I saw her off OK. Only I hadn’t.’