Chapter 12: NOW - The Safe Room

We couldn’t stay after that. I’d ruined Daisy’s party with my overreaction, and everyone knew it. Even when the singer resumed her performance, and Heather tried to convince me that it was all right, I found myself holding back tears, desperately trying to keep it together. Now Sophie is mad at me, sniffling in the back seat with her stuffed rabbit, Bertie, on her lap.

“Do you want McDonald’s for lunch?” I offer as an olive branch. “You can get a happy meal.”

She shakes her head furiously, which is a relief considering the sleet is turning into snow. Ed left me his Land Rover Discovery in the will, but I was never as confident a driver as him. If I don’t need to drive in snow, I won’t.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to spoil the party.”

Sophie turns her head away to stare out of the window, scrunching her petite features into a scowl. It almost makes me laugh how much she resembles Ed when she’s angry. Then a wave of sadness washes over me.

“Can you forgive Mummy?” I make a silly pouting face in the mirror hoping it might cheer her up.

She glances at me and her mouth twitches, but then her eyes cloud over. “I didn’t get to see Daisy open her present!”

“I know, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you so aggro?”

I almost burst into laughter. “Where did you hear that word?”

She shrugs. “Fi said her mum says it when she’s watching the news.”

“I’m not aggro, Sophie, I’m just a little tense. Do you remember me telling you about the library? About how someone broke in? It was a bit scary, and then I panicked when I couldn’t see you. Sometimes adults get very tense when there’s a lot going on.”

“Like Daddy used to?” she asks.

I let out a low sigh. Ed could be more anxious than me at times, but I’d never thought that Sophie picked up on it. He reserved those moments of worry for when we were alone. It usually related to Peter and whether we had enough safeguarding in place to allow Sophie a calm, happy life.

“Yes, sweetie. I’m sorry that it ruined the party for you. I promise I’ll do better next time.”

Through the mirror I see her stroking the ears of the rabbit. “Did you think the man that… that broke into the library… did you think he’d got me?”

“For a second, yes. But don’t worry, sweetheart. I was just being paranoid. No one is going to get you, not while I’m with you, okay?”

Her eyes meet mine and for the first time I see fear in them. That’s my fault for how I acted today. Shit. Maybe I should have made something else up about losing my mind. Maybe I should have told her I was getting my period or had too much wine. I can already see her mind whirring, focusing on this man.

“Let’s put some music on. Shall I put our playlist on?”

“All right,” she says.

I try to sing along to feel-good pop songs for the rest of the drive. Sophie kicks her feet and claps a few times, but she still seems subdued. I grab some of her favourite foods on the way back, pepperoni pizza and ingredients to make a chocolate cake. The latter is half for myself, too. If we’re about to get snowed in tonight, we may as well do it in style.

The house is cold when we return. I bump up the heating, shove the pizza in the freezer and turn to ask Sophie what she wants to do for the rest of the day, but she dramatically clomps upstairs to her room. Sighing, I decide to leave her to process her feelings without me and check the security cameras again.

It’s been a quiet day on Gorsegrass Rise, which isn’t surprising given the weather. No dog walkers today. I watch live footage of the camera on the gate and notice a figure walking past the house that was recently sold. Whoever it is doesn’t come closer to my property. Instead, they head back towards the house, walking up the drive. Could that be my new neighbour? I zoom in, squinting at the fuzzy image. I’m pretty sure it’s the same woman, with a blonde bob. She’s slim and potentially young, but it’s too hard to tell. I decide to stop snooping and come out of the feed. At least this helps to assuage my paranoia that Peter bought the house. I wouldn’t put it past him if he had the money—which I sincerely doubt he would—it seems more likely that a rich, younger couple have bought it ready to start a family.

I head upstairs to check on Sophie but she’s playing quietly with her stuffed animals when I check in on her through the doorway.

“The big bad wolf is coming into the house,” she narrates in a deep, gravelly voice. She makes her toy dog bark. “He’s going to eat everyone inside!”

“Soph?” I interrupt. “Are you okay?”

She nods.

“You know that no one can get in the house, don’t you?”

“Guess so,” she mumbles.

I step in and give her shoulders a squeeze and kiss her forehead. “Okay. Good girl. You carry on playing.”

I turn around and head out into the hallway, catching the next part.

“Mummy bear fights the bad wolf and baby bear survives! Yay! But the big bad wolf gets back up and⁠—”

I walk away, not wanting to hear any more. I know she’s processing her worries through play, but I hate how my fears become her fears. A sudden surge of tears well up behind my eyes and I fight them back, not wanting Sophie to hear me crying to top this day off. I head back to the kitchen and pour a glass of water, trying not to wallow in the grief.

It’s impossible to live a completely normal life with a stalker but at least I found real love with Ed, and maternal love with Sophie. Meeting Ed had taken me by surprise. By the time he came into my life, I was so beaten down by Peter that I didn’t even feel like I deserved love. I apologised constantly for the way I was, always checking my surroundings, changing my phone number every six months, rejecting any sort of compliment.

“Being with you is like being with some sort of celebrity,” he told me once, laughter in his voice. “I feel like the man a pop star is trying to keep out of the press.”

“I wish,” I said. “If that was true, I could afford my own bodyguard.”

He bumped my shoulder with his. “I’ll be your bodyguard.”

It’d been sweet, and I loved him, but Ed was a gentle man. I could only have been with a gentle man; I could never have loved anything less. But he was not trained in security; there was no way he could keep me safe. He did come from a more affluent family than mine, but still not on the level where I could hire an actual security firm. There are not many people who can.

That’s why stalking is so terrifying for the average person. We hear about the dangers of fame, of how it attracts people who wish harm on the celebrity. We read about break-ins, about famous people barricading themselves in a bathroom as their stalker roams the mansion. Even the Queen came face-to-face with an intruder in Buckingham Palace. Security can be bought. It’s never perfect, but it is an option for the rich and famous. I have more than most: my cameras, the safe room, the reinforced doors and windows. Still I feel far from safe. There are thousands of us out there checking every door is locked. Some of us will one day be attacked. Some of us will be killed. Those are the facts.

It can happen to anyone. Stalkers come from all walks of life, from ex-partners to a chance encounter with someone at work. It can ruin lives. It can go on for years, even decades. So many of us run in fear, always checking over our shoulders, trying to raise children in an environment so fear-soaked that it seeps into their pores.

I was never supposed to do this alone. Ed was supposed to be here with me shouldering some of this burden. If only I had him to take Sophie to a birthday party so that I don’t ruin it with my paranoia. Fuck. I’ve done it again; I’ve dwelled on the negative. I push away tears and sip the water, staring out of the window.

The snow is falling heavily now. We are high up on the rise coming out of Eel Beck so we always get the first few flakes. School might even be closed on Monday.

I wish you were here, Ed.

I’ve always hated self-pity because there’s a poisonous quality to it. Like a snake eating its tail. You can’t grow as a person and pity yourself at the same time. But right now, I indulge in it, imagining the Ed-shaped void standing next to me, the partner whose arms should be around me now watching the snow fall with me.

That time is gone. Time to move on.

I shake it off and move away from the window, ready to get on with some chores. I grab a scrunchie and tie back my hair, roll up my sleeves and decide to start with the dusting. But then the doorbell rings.