crunch against leaves. I weave in and out of trees, seeing shadows everywhere. Sensing eyes on me. There are too many places to hide. Panic builds and builds, my heart bursting out of my rib cage, legs pumping of their own volition. If I stop I’ll fall. But I’m not stopping.
Run.
The playground is almost deserted now, the mums have taken hungry toddlers home for their lunch. In my peripheral vision I see something dart towards me. I spin around, pressing Archie’s face into my shoulder, shielding the back of his head with my palm but it’s only a Labrador bounding towards me, tail wagging, tongue lolling. In my mind he morphs into Bruno.
Run.
The gates loom. I sprint through them. I should feel safer on the pavement with the traffic and the pedestrians and the row of houses with their neat front gardens, bottle-green lawns and white picket fences, but I don’t.
A black car approaches. I try to shrink Archie and keep him hidden. It doesn’t slow as it reaches us, the driver doesn’t glance our way.
I’m tiring.
My arms burn in their sockets from the weight of Archie. My hip throbs where he balances on the bone. My legs are growing weaker.
Another black car.
Another.
Run.
Eventually my street. My house. I am thundering down my driveway, keys already in my hand.
Safe.
For now.
Archie is sleeping. His eyelids keep fluttering closed as I tucked him in bed for his afternoon nap, before snapping open.
‘Why couldn’t I keep the bear, Mummy?’
‘Because it belonged to someone else.’
Now I wish I’d brought it home. Examined it properly to see if it was mine.
I sit on the landing outside his bedroom – a lioness guarding her cub – and take deep breaths before I can start on the phone calls I need to make.
‘Mum?’ I say as soon as she answers. ‘What happened to our things from… you know. Our clothes. The jewellery we were wearing. Do you have them?’
‘No. They were taken for evidence and I didn’t want them back.’
I cut the call and ring Graham.
‘Leah.’ He sounds tired.
‘Is the evidence still being held?’ I blurt out before Graham starts with his small talk. ‘My cross that was found afterwards, the—’
‘Not after all this time. No. I think your personal effects went back to your mum.’
‘She says they didn’t.’ But then, even if she didn’t want anything to do with our book, she might have sold our possessions to the true-crime fans when she was short of money after the divorce.
‘What’s this about?’
‘He’s… he’s doing things.’
‘Like what?’
I hesitate.
‘Off the record, Leah.’
I recount everything that’s been happening. He won’t tell anyone, I know. He must have been approached a thousand times from journalists wanting an exclusive from the officer in charge of the case, and he’s never once talked. ‘I’m so scared, not just for me but… Marie.’ My voice cracks. ‘Just because she’s taken off before doesn’t mean she has again. Can you help me?’ I ask when I’ve finished.
‘I would if I could, but—’
‘No crime has been committed,’ I finish his sentence for him.
‘No.’
‘Can you at least tell me where he is living?’
‘You know I can’t tell you that, Leah. Look, last time you thought he was after you, he wasn’t. I know you’ll never forget what happened but he has no reason to come after you now, does he?’
‘Revenge?’
‘For what?’
‘For getting caught and spending years in prison.’
‘Possibly but it doesn’t feel right.’
‘There’s something else.’ Something I’ve never told anyone. ‘Off the record?’ I check.
I hear the flint of his lighter spark. ‘Okay.’
‘After he was released for what he did to us I… I was a mess. You remember? I thought I saw him everywhere.’
‘But it was your illness.’
‘Fregoli, yes, but after that had come to light and the police knew not to take any sightings that I reported seriously… he… he did approach me.’
‘You could have still—’
‘I couldn’t. I was so close to being sectioned, Graham. I knew that no one would believe me.’
‘I would have believed you, Leah.’ He sounds disappointed in me. ‘Did he threaten you?’
Briefly I think about lying, but Graham has shown faith in me, and I have to put the same trust in him. ‘He didn’t… he didn’t threaten me, or try and hurt me. He… he tried to apologize. I freaked out. I couldn’t cope with the thought that he might keep trying to contact me. No one would have taken me seriously if I had told them. I… I was desperate, Graham. Desperate and angry… and scared.’
‘What did you