The Apartment - K. L. Slater Page 0,79

in there, which is strange.

I tiptoe inside the room in my sock feet, huddling close to the cool plaster.

I stand next to him, and weirdly, he doesn’t move but stares at the wall at the bottom of Skye’s bed. I open my mouth to ask what I should be looking at, but he’s so focused I just follow his stare instead.

He seems to be interested in the bookshelves that run along the wall above Skye’s toy box. She loves reading and was pleased when she saw the bookshelves already fitted there.

They’re packed to the rafters with all her favourite books, different shapes and sizes and all well read.

It looks like any standard kid’s bedroom; nice enough but not something I want to stare at for much longer.

Mark tugs at my elbow and I take one step to the right and he points at the bookshelves again. I sigh, shift my weight to the other foot, and just as I’m about to turn to him to ask what I’m supposed to be looking at, I see it.

The tiniest red flash, so minute and quick, it’s almost invisible.

My mouth falls open and I stand staring until about five seconds later, when it flashes again. ‘What the . . .’

I stagger back slightly and Mark steadies me, points at Skye’s small painted chair that’s directly behind me. I sit down heavily on it, trying to sort through the implications of what I’m seeing . . . what someone has done . . .

I feel as if I’m watching down a tunnel as Mark turns on the torch on his phone and lies sideways on the floor, sweeping the light underneath my daughter’s bed and then up at the springs and the mattress.

The phone flashes and I realise he’s taking pictures of something under there.

Still sitting on the chair, I lean back against the wall and close my eyes. I can’t process the terrible thoughts filling my head.

Someone has been spying on my daughter?

Revulsion washes over me and I feel dirty on the inside. If I scrubbed myself from head to foot with bleach I still couldn’t feel clean.

What is this place? How can I have put my daughter in so much danger? I should never have come back here. Brenna would have packed up our things.

I’m shivering and my skin feels clammy.

‘I want to get Skye from downstairs and get out of here,’ I whisper.

Mark clambers to his feet and helps me stand up, leading me out of the room without speaking. In the lounge, he sits me down. The room is still dark with the lights off and I can only see him when he comes really close. Close enough to feel his breath on my cheek.

‘Sit here while I check out the other rooms and I’ll do this one last,’ Mark says gently. ‘When I know exactly what we’re up against, we’ll call the police and get out of here.’

‘Skye’s with Lily,’ I manage. ‘I have to get her, have to know she’s safe, before we do anything else.’

‘Course.’ He nods. ‘We can get her back as soon as I’ve checked the other rooms.’

Mark leaves the lounge again and I sit in the silence, in the dark, trying to make sense of it all. I think about Audrey asking me, so matter-of-fact, if it was OK for the security camera to be installed. I hadn’t been happy and said so, but I never, for a minute, suspected it would lead to any of this.

She must have arranged for all the other spy devices to be fitted at the same time . . . when we were in the garden, perhaps, and everyone was being so nice.

Maybe they’re monitoring everyone who lives here. Even Lily, who’s lived here for a long time. If she wants him to, Mark could check her place out, too, while he’s here.

I really felt Audrey had let down her steely defences with me. And all the time, it must’ve been part of the act.

I’ve been na?ve, a pushover. I’ve been such a trusting fool.

46

Mark comes back in the lounge and cases around the walls. I don’t watch him, I feel if I move my head an inch, I’ll be sick.

All I want now is to get Skye and get out of this hellhole. Mark sits down next to me on the couch and I open my eyes.

‘OK, there’s nothing in here, nothing in your bedroom. The only room that’s been fitted out with surveillance is Skye’s bedroom.