The Fear: The sensational new thriller from the Sunday Times bestseller that you need to read in 2018
‘Oh god.’ She sighs dramatically. ‘Not that again. I already talked to the police.’ She lowers her voice as a boy from her year swerves around them. ‘He hasn’t done anything wrong.’
‘He has,’ the woman says. ‘I saw him kiss you.’
Chloe stares at her, her throat dry, her mind empty. ‘You’re lying.’
‘I’m not. I was in the garden centre. I saw him kiss you in the summer house.’
‘No you didn’t.’
‘Chloe,’ the woman touches her on the shoulder again. ‘I know what you’re going through. I know what he’s like. He makes you feel special, doesn’t he? Beautiful? You feel understood and cared for, like he’s the only person in the world who really gets you.’ The woman is speaking softly and quickly, like she’s running out of breath, and she’s leaning in far closer than Chloe is comfortable with. ‘Has he told you that he loves you yet?’
She shakes her head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Yes you do. I can see it in your eyes. You need to tell the police what’s going on. He’s a dangerous man. You think he’s kind and generous and caring but he’s manipulating you. He’s a paedophile, Chloe. This is all about control and nothing to do with love. Have you slept with him yet?’
‘What? No!’ The horror in Chloe’s voice is real and the other woman seems to sense it because she raises her eyebrows.
‘Good. Don’t. Whatever’s going on between you and Mike Hughes, you need to end it now. No good can come of it. You need to trust me on this.’
‘Trust you? I don’t even know who you are.’
‘I’m—’
‘Chloeeee!’ A red-haired girl with thick black eyebrows barges between them. ‘Sorry, Miss, I need to talk to Chloe. Chlo, did you do last night’s biology homework because I, like, well, didn’t. I need to borrow yours. Is this it?’ She yanks at one of the books Chloe is clutching to her chest. Normally there’s no way in hell she’d let Misty Engles anywhere near her but right now she’d take an atomic bomb over spending one more minute talking about Mike Hughes with this weirdo.
‘Course you can borrow it,’ she says, then she threads her arm through Misty’s and heads for the gates.
‘Chloe,’ the woman calls from behind her. ‘Let me give you my phone number. You can call me if—’
‘Fuck off!’ Chloe shouts without looking back. ‘Just fuck off.’
Misty Engles giggles. ‘Who was that?’
‘Just some freak. I think she fancies me.’
Chloe’s laughter lasts all of thirty seconds, then her phone bleeps with a text from her dad. She’s been sacked from the garden centre. They know about the thefts. And so does he.
It’s six minutes past nine. Wendy’s irritation at being late is reflected back at her in the bathroom mirror, along with a face of carefully, if heavily, applied make-up.
‘Warpaint,’ Wendy says to her reflection, then sighs heavily. Monty, the springer spaniel at her feet, nudges her leg with his nose and she reaches down to rub him behind the ears.
She’s being ridiculous, she knows she is. Wearing a faceful of make-up isn’t going to impress Lou Wandsworth. Nor will it give her the upper hand. In fact the only message it’ll give Lou is that Wendy needs to get down to Boots for a new mascara because the clumpy eyelash look isn’t fetching on catwalk models, never mind on fifty-nine-year-old women. She reaches for a make-up wipe and roughly scrubs at her cheeks, lips and eyes. She doesn’t need make-up for what she’s about to do.
She walks into the office with her shoulders back, her chin tipped up and an uncomfortable prickling sensation under her arms. After she dropped Monty off at her sister’s house she had to put her foot down to compensate for the ridiculous amount of time she’d spent applying, and then removing, her make-up, but she parked up outside Consol eLearning right on time. And with a minute to spare too.
‘Good morning,’ she says merrily to the matronly- looking receptionist. ‘My name is Wendy Harrison. I’m here to see Louise Wandsworth.’
‘She’s expecting you. I’ll just ring through. Would you like a coffee or tea?’
‘A cup of tea would be lovely. Milk no sugar.’
There’s something very pleasing about people making a fuss of you, Wendy thinks as she sits back in her chair and sips at her tea. Ever since she arrived at Consol eLearning ten minutes ago, she’s been greeted with warm smiles and firm handshakes. She was even given a plate of nice Marks and Spencer biscuits as she was shown into the meeting room by Lou and a rather balding man who introduced himself as Gary Lambley, head of sales. Wendy felt a wave of disappointment as he thrust a sweaty hand at her. She’d assumed her meeting would be with Lou and Lou alone, but actually the presence of someone else in the room has meant that she can study the other woman without being too obvious.
‘Well, that’s pretty much everything about us and what we do,’ Gary says as his presentation finally draws to a close. ‘Do you have any questions?’
‘No, I think you’ve covered pretty much everything.’ Most of the presentation went over Wendy’s head but she’s not about to admit that.
Lou gets up from her seat and switches on the lights. She smiles warmly at Wendy as she sits back down. ‘As I mentioned on the phone, I am quite new here, but I’ve got over seven years’ experience in managing eLearning projects and I’d be your first port of call.’
‘It sounds as though I’ll be in very safe hands.’
‘You would. Absolutely. So, now we’ve told you all about us perhaps you’d like to share a bit more about the training you’d like us to develop. You said on the phone that …’ her hair falls over her face as she glances down at her notebook ‘… the nursing faculty at the University of Worcester are considering adding some eLearning to the bachelor’s degree?’
‘That’s right yes.’ Words tumble out of Wendy’s mouth like stones from a bucket. Her nursing degree is over thirty years old but she can still recall the fundamentals of her training. And besides, she practised for this question when she was out walking Monty yesterday. When she’d come up with the idea of finding out a little bit more about Lou Wandsworth by masquerading as a new customer, she’d worried that there was a flaw in her plan – that Lou might ask for a landline contact number in addition to the mobile number she’d provided, or the details of someone more senior at the university. She hadn’t. She’d taken Wendy completely at her word.
It’s astonishing how gullible and naïve some people are, Wendy thinks as Lou nods and smiles at everything she says. They’re traits you’d associate with the weak and vulnerable – children and the elderly – and yet here is a woman that’s neither of those things. Is she really that gullible? Or – Wendy sits up a little higher in her chair and looks towards the door – it could be a trap. She’d assumed that Lou wouldn’t know who she was when she walked into the office. Why would she? They’d never met before; Lou hadn’t even glanced at her when she was behind her in the queue at the café. They’d never spoken other than Wendy’s initial enquiry about a meeting and there are no photos of her on the internet for Lou to google but there’s still a small chance she might know who she is.
‘That all sounds great, Dr Harrison,’ Lou says and Wendy suppresses a smile. It was a bit of silliness, deciding to award herself a doctorate