The Fake Date Read online

  A loud, sporadic knocking at the door made her jump. Tears were streaming down her face and she moved further up the stairs. ‘GO AWAY, I’ll call the police,’ she screamed, while wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her dressing gown. ‘You can’t keep coming here, I’ve told you, I don’t want you here.’

  Then there was a second knock. ‘Ella, Ella, it’s me. It’s Will. What happened? Are you okay? Please, please, open the door.’

  Ella moved quickly down the stairs, opened the door and fell into Will’s arms. ‘I know I shouldn’t have, but I just shouted at Bobby.’ A huge sob left her throat. ‘I know he was only helping, but … but …’

  ‘I know, I know,’ Will whispered as he held her in his arms. ‘He scared you, didn’t he? Don’t worry, he’s gone.’

  I walk up and down, pacing, thinking of what to do next. I thought that things would be better but they are not. There’s nothing to brighten my mood and no one to care. I have no friends, no one likes me.

  All I can think of is what I have done. Of who I have already disposed of. Of who will be my next victim, of who has recently got in my way and of how I will kill them. There are so many possibilities, but only one person really sticks in my mind. One person monopolises my thoughts and I know that you will be next.

  I’m tired, I need to sleep, I need to get the image of you out of my mind. I don’t want to be alone with my evil, twisted thoughts and I make my way to bed in the hope that I might find comfort in my sleep. I enjoy the feeling of falling into the darkness like an abyss and I wonder if this is what it’s like to die, if this is what my victims feel just moments before they are gone, or if there is more. Is there a bright light at the end of a tunnel or a rainbow to run beneath? I think for a moment and hope for the darkness as I slip into a deep, yet troubled sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  For the first time in months the gym was overcrowded. People queued for the equipment and the ones that were exercising pulled, danced and moved in rhythm to the music that boomed throughout the main room.

  Michelle’s eyes were everywhere, all at once. She pushed a hand through her short, blonde hair as she strutted across the gym to where the water coolers stood. She caught her reflection in a mirror and smiled. Her recent weight loss was showing and the Lycra was looking good. She twisted to check out the new, cute shape of her backside, just as one of the male members walked past and whistled.

  ‘Behave,’ she shouted as she made her way to look through the window of the studio, where at least thirty women were dancing around all in perfect time to Zumba. The sound of dance music seeped from the room and into the gym where the grunting and clanging could be heard as the male members picked up weights that were far too heavy for them and then resorted to dropping them on the mats with loud and resounding thuds. ‘If it’s too heavy to put down, it’s too heavy to pick up,’ she shouted out loud. ‘I’m sure the floor will fall through one day.’ She pulled at the paper towel dispenser and reached up to wipe a mark from one of the mirrors.

  It had been a long time since there’d been such a buzz in the air. It was good to see that everyone was smiling, laughing and joking again. All the people who’d previously stayed away were back and Michelle smiled at the prospect of business picking back up. ‘Nothing like your boss being banged up to kill the flow of customers,’ she whispered. Again, she studied the activity around her. It was her job to ensure the members stayed safe, that none of them injured themselves whilst working out and she was also there to instruct, should she be needed.

  Michelle thought of the court case. It had been a whole week since Rick had been released, but today he’d messaged to say he was back from the holiday he’d gone on to get over his prison experience and he’d be back at the gym later. The message had filled her with a mixture of nerves and excitement. She looked forward to seeing him, but knew that things would be different between them than they had been before – their relationship had changed and they were closer now than they’d ever previously been. She danced on the spot; it was a relationship she really wanted to develop further. A relationship she’d nurtured and a romance that had begun many years before. They’d worked together for years and on one or two occasions in the past they’d had brief encounters, especially after he’d lost both of his wives. She’d been there for him, so much more than anyone else and blushed at the thought that this time, he might just fall for her. This time, she’d be the one and this time she’d have the chance of love and a future with him, something she’d wanted for a very long time.

  Michelle took a sip of water from the water cooler. It was all she could think to do to quell the flip-flopping of her stomach, which seemed to do a somersault every single time the door opened and another member walked in. Picking up her mobile, she re-read the message, taking special notice of the kiss he’d left at the end.

  Home from holiday. Be in later, looking forward to getting stuck in. Rick x

  Once again she glanced at her watch and took in a deep breath. ‘Soon, he’ll be here soon,’ she whispered to herself.

  Spotting a random towel left by the cross trainer, she walked across the gym and picked it up, before heading back to reception where she dropped it in a box by the desk.

  ‘Come on, come on, you can’t be long now, can you?’ She stood by reception, nervously tapping her foot up and down while scanning the whole room. She tried to decide what Rick would think of the changes. She hoped he’d like the new layout, and the new colours. They’d painted the walls and the reception had been moved closer to the door. After all, all the staff had had a lot of time on their hands over the past few months, and with the lack of customers they’d used the time wisely by decorating, moving the equipment around and creating spaces for each type of activity. Clear defined areas could now be seen and Michelle liked the idea that the big weights, where the men grunted and growled, were now as far away from the light weights and aerobic mats as possible. At least now the members could use the mats and meditate or stretch without worrying that a thirty-kilo dumb-bell would crash to the floor beside them.

  ‘Nina!’ she shouted. ‘Where are you?’ She listened and waited for an answer, but when no reply came she shouted again, her voice now slightly raised. ‘Nina!’ She flung open the door to the staffroom to see Nina’s tiny frame sitting in a corner, her mobile pressed tightly to her ear. ‘Nina, I won’t shout again,’ she urged, ‘please, the place is heaving, and the mirrors, they still need polishing.’

  Nina shrugged and turned back into the corner. She flicked her long, dark hair over her shoulder in defiance and whispered into the handset. She finished the call, dabbed at her tear-filled eyes so as not to smudge her thick, black eye make-up and grabbed a handful of polishing cloths. ‘Okay, okay. I’ll do them now.’ She paused and sniffed. ‘Only reason I didn’t do them before was because old Joe was on the cross trainer, you know, doing his stuff. I didn’t want to disturb him.’ Her voice held a note of belligerence as she pushed the mobile in her pocket and stamped towards the mirrors.

  Michelle didn’t like her attitude. Nina had changed. Her moods were all over the place, one minute happy, the other minute sad to the point of devastation and on other days she seemed to have an air of defiance about her that no one could control.

  ‘Nina, are you okay? Cause …’ Michelle stumbled over her words. Was it her job to control Nina’s moods? Was she expected to be a psychoanalyst on top of everything else? She looked Nina up and down. Her frame was small, her features petite, and she looked and acted more like a teenager than a woman in her twenties.

  ‘Nina, you do know you shouldn’t be on your phone, don’t you? Not during work time.’

  Nina stopped in her tracks, and turned. Tears now fell down her face. ‘It was my stepdad. You know what he’s like. I can’t ignore him. You know that.’ She wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. ‘So please don’t start on me. I’ve had a horrible day.’ She stared directly at Michelle who passed her a tissue from the box on reception. �
�I don’t want to live there, or with him, but I can’t afford to move. Not on what I’m paid here and he says that if I can’t contribute more, I have to get out.’ She blew her nose on the tissue. ‘Did you say Rick was coming in later? I need to see him. I need more hours.’ She tipped her head to one side waiting for an answer.

  Michelle nodded. ‘He’ll be busy though. Don’t you go bothering him about hours, not on his first day back.’ The truth was that Michelle wanted Rick to herself and didn’t want to share him, not today.

  ‘But, Michelle …’ Again, she sobbed. ‘I’ll be homeless.’ Nina was still young. Her mother had died years before and she’d been left to live with a stepfather she hated.

  ‘Okay, you can ask him when he gets here. Just don’t jump on him the minute he walks through the door. If anyone gets to do that, it’ll be me.’ Michelle smirked.

  ‘Wow. Why the hell would he want you jumping all over him?’ Nina responded sharply with her hands on her hips. ‘You’re not his type, are you? You’re far too … you know, butch.’

  The words hit Michelle like a sledgehammer and she turned and walked rapidly towards the staffroom. ‘Just go and make those mirrors sparkle, will you? And don’t stop till they do,’ she added as she swung open the staffroom door. She had no idea why Nina had been so cruel. No idea why she’d been more than happy to hurt her feelings, or why she would call her butch. Michelle sighed and once again checked her phone for messages. She wondered if Rick would text again or if he would just walk in like he’d never been away. Either way, she was determined to look good, determined to look feminine and sexy so that Rick would want to spend time with her, although she knew that her time with Rick would be limited, especially today. She looked towards the office where the office manager, Tim, had been hiding since before breakfast. Tim used to own the gym, alongside Rick. But money had been laundered. Tim had dug a hole so deep that he couldn’t get out and eventually Rick had worked out the truth. Walls had been punched, whole mirrors had been smashed and equipment had been thrown. But, when the crunch came to the crunch, Tim was still family. He was the brother of Rick’s first wife, and once he’d calmed down Rick had used his own money to pay off Tim’s debt. He’d saved him from going to prison and in return Rick had taken complete control of the business. But all the time Rick had been in prison, Tim had been running the place, acting all weird again and Michelle knew that whatever was going on behind that door, Rick wasn’t going to like it.

  Michelle picked up her handbag, rummaged through it to find her make-up and sprayed herself with perfume. She smiled at the thought of seeing Rick again, but now her mind was clouded with doubt. Could Nina be right? She looked at herself from all angles in the mirror. Come to think of it, her hair was short. It was practical for work, but Michelle thought of Rick’s wives and girlfriends. All had had either long or shoulder-length hair. All had been slim, like her, and all had had perfect smiles. She smiled at herself in the mirror. ‘Not bad,’ she whispered. ‘Not butch.’ She shook her head but frowned with doubt. ‘Definitely, hopefully not butch.’

  She’d been to visit him in prison, on the pretext that she wanted to keep him involved in the changes at the gym. She’d taken colour swatches with her and had discussed the décor and the movement of equipment, and it had quickly become apparent that over the past few months he’d warmed towards her. She’d always made sure she looked her best. She’d worn make-up and she’d purposely worn the perfume he’d commented on previously, and on one occasion he’d hugged her when she’d arrived and kissed her on the cheek as she’d left. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it?

  The memory filled her with a warm glow. But she wasn’t stupid. She knew that Rick was a ladies’ man. She knew he chatted up anyone in a skirt, but she also knew that he’d been hurt in the past, and that he’d allowed himself to love before. He’d been more than happy to settle down and it hadn’t been his fault that on both occasions he’d been dealt the cruellest of blows. With each blow, Michelle had had another chance, another opportunity to win her prize; she’d been there for him, allowed him to cry on her shoulder. But on both occasions, she’d lost out to others and had to stand by and watch as he romanced other women. This time she intended to win.

  Dropping her handbag back down to the floor, Michelle wiped the sink and the toilet around with a wet cloth, and polished them off, before once again studying her appearance in the mirror. Satisfied that she looked the best she could, she glanced over her shoulder to see Nina, just standing with her arms dropped by her sides. She was watching her. Studying her. And Michelle didn’t like it.

  ‘Nina, haven’t you got anything to do?’ She put both her hands on her hips. ‘Go see if Tim wants a coffee, he’s in the office no doubt cooking the books before Rick gets back.’ She laughed at her own joke, but deep down knew how close to the truth that joke was.

  Michelle once again grabbed her handbag and pulled a lipstick from within. She studied the colour; it was a deeper red than she normally wore, but she felt mischievous. She was determined not to look butch in any way and touched it lightly to her lips. Pleased now that her appearance said come and get me, she pulled her fingers through her short hair. ‘There you go, you look amazing, he’ll love you,’ she whispered to herself with an appreciative, but cunning smile.

  ‘Who’ll love you?’ Nina asked. ‘I hope you’re not thinking Rick will, cause Rick loves no one, only himself.’ She’d walked up behind Michelle and was now standing in the staffroom doorway. ‘And why are you wearing lipstick? You never wear it for work.’

  ‘None of your business. Now, why don’t you go and speak to Tim about your hours, give you something to do rather than bothering me.’ She looked Nina up and down. ‘No point in bothering Rick, is there?’ If truth be known Michelle had seen the way that Nina looked at Rick, she knew she liked him and wanted to keep her as far away from him as she could. There had already been too many women who’d got in her way and she was sure as hell that Nina wouldn’t be the next.

  ‘I’ll be asking Rick, not Tim,’ Nina growled. ‘Besides, we have some unfinished business to clear up. Business that doesn’t require bright, whore-like lipstick.’ Once again her words stung, but she smiled sarcastically before turning away, walking across to the office and bursting in through the door, without knocking.

  ‘Michelle sent me to ask if you need coffee,’ she asked through the open door and Michelle could see Tim, looking like a frightened rabbit in the headlights, his hands full of paperwork. It was a sight that made her close her eyes with dread.

  ‘Yeah, coffee would be great.’ He stood motionless. His arms were lifted high, his biceps bulged and the T-shirt he wore looked as though it were about to burst at the seams. ‘And, Nina, close the door behind you.’ His voice was more of a growl. ‘And when you come back, try knocking.’ The whole scene was suspicious and Michelle just knew he was up to something. She crept to the office window, stood to one side and peered through while holding her breath. As she thought, Tim was quickly scanning every piece of paper on the desk and throwing them into one of two piles. Once the desk was clear, he picked up one of the piles, opened the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet and dropped them inside. Michelle stood back, the doubts and the worries spinning around in her mind. She didn’t want it to be true, but if Tim was up to his old tricks again, why had he waited so long to cover his tracks and why would he hide the evidence where Rick could easily find it?

  ‘Is this it?’ Rick questioned as he looked up from the books.

  ‘What can I say, it’s been slow.’ Tim stood with his back to the grey metal filing cabinets. He was smirking with nerves, while all the time carefully watching every turn of the page that Rick made. He looked as though he was trying just a little too hard to remain calm; his apparently calm demeanour was belied by the way he was constantly twisting his hands together as though he were wringing out dishcloths, and Rick wondered why a man twice his size with biceps the size of tree trunks would look quite so wor
ried, unless once again he was up to something that he shouldn’t be.

  ‘You going to prison didn’t go down too well around here,’ Tim said. ‘Everyone thought you were guilty.’ He bit down on his bottom lip, cocked his head on one side and winked, in a slight attempt to lighten the mood.

  Rick stood up and walked to the door. ‘Did you think I was guilty?’ He stood for a moment looking through the glass, taking in the atmosphere and noted that Tim didn’t answer. He’d only been back an hour and it felt like when you’d been away on a holiday; everything looked different when you returned. The gym had had a makeover. It looked all new and fresh and he wanted to stand for a while and take it all in. He wanted to see what he’d missed. He closed his eyes just for a moment while he listened to the surrounding noises. If the losses were as bad as he’d initially thought, he could be about to lose it all. It was a thought he couldn’t bear. He’d grown up here; he knew every nook and cranny, every sound, and every noise, all of which he’d loved for many years. He vividly remembered the days when he’d happily mooched around the place as a child. He’d spent hours watching his father training boxers in the ring. It was a ring that still stood there to this day, his father’s picture hanging on the wall beside it. Rick held his breath for just a moment, while once again he listened more carefully to the sound of metal banging against metal, the grunting, the panting, the distant and repetitive music that came from the aerobics class, along with the continual whirring of the cross trainers, rowing machines and the perpetual sound of spinning that always surrounded the air bikes.