The Magpies A Psychological Thriller - By Mark Edwards Page 0,70

there’s no evidence that anyone’s been in here. The door was locked. The windows are shut tight.’ He tried to smile. ‘We must be wrong.’

‘I guess so.’

It was growing dark outside, long shadows pointing towards the house as the sun went down. Kirsty yawned. ‘I’m tired. That long journey’s worn me out. I might go to bed for a while.’

‘OK.’

She drew the curtains in the bedroom and slipped beneath the cool duvet. She lay there with her eyes wide open, shivering. She wanted Jamie to come to bed with her, to lay close behind her, keep her safe. But he didn’t follow her into the room. She heard him moving around the living room, checking shelves and drawers, trying to prove to himself that his instincts were right, even though he wanted them to be wrong.

Night descended and Jamie went to bed. Kirsty had by now fallen asleep, and he kissed the back of her neck and put his arm around her, feeling the slight curve of her belly with his palm. He went to sleep in that position. Earlier, Kirsty had rung her parents and told them about the wedding. They had been not furious but disappointed, which was worse, and Jamie had listened to the brightness fade from Kirsty’s voice as she’d tried to justify why they’d done it. The conversation had exhausted her.

Jamie was woken up by a creaking sound. He opened his eyes, a shot of adrenaline making him feel fully awake. The noise sounded close, almost as if it was coming from the next room. Jamie had a clear, horrible thought: What if there really had been someone in the flat – and what if they were still here?

No way, he told himself. We searched the whole flat and there was nobody in here.

But what if the intruder had been hiding somewhere they hadn’t looked?

He felt a tremor of fear and sickness run through him. Beside him, Kirsty slept on, oblivious to the drama and tension that held Jamie in its grip. The sounds of footfall continued. Jamie checked the bedside clock. It was three a.m.

He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt which lay on the floor beside the bed. He realised he wouldn’t want to face an intruder barefoot – it would make him too vulnerable – so he groped around in the darkness until he found his trainers. He pulled them on and laced them up.

With his heartbeat booming in his ears, he gently pushed the bedroom door open, wincing and tensing his neck muscles as it squeaked – the squeak sounding as loud as an aeroplane taking off in the night-silence of the flat. He paused in the hallway beside the front door. The door’s squeak had actually helped tear open the wall of silence and now the creaking didn’t sound so loud. But it was still there. He could still hear it.

The fuse box was beside the front door and next to that was a heavy-duty rubber torch. Jamie kept it there in case of a power cut. He picked it up and felt reassured by its weight. He didn’t plan to use it for casting light but as a weapon.

Holding the torch over his shoulder, ready to strike anyone who stood in his way, he shoved the living room door open and flicked the light switch. The room flooded with light and Jamie shut his eyes tight for a second then opened them, blobs of light appearing in his vision – but that was all. There was nobody in the room. It was as empty as he had left it when he went to bed.

‘Jamie?’

He turned and saw Kirsty in the doorway, squinting against the light, her hair sticking up all over the place.

‘What are you doing?’

He went over and put his arm around her. She felt cold.

‘I heard a noise. I thought maybe someone was in the flat.’

‘There’s nobody here.’

‘I know.’

‘You must have imagined it. You probably dreamt it.’ She yawned loudly. ‘God, Jamie, I’m so tired. And you’re going to have to get a grip of yourself. You’re letting your mind play tricks on you, and it isn’t good for either of us.’

He knew she was right – but he had heard the creaking so distinctly, even when he had got up and stood right outside the room. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep now. He would lie there for