By the Pricking of my Thumbs

'Ah yes. Warm water at last. There is something wonderfully decadent about a hot shower when you don't really need one. I'm glad I went to the trouble of starting that opera CD in the bedroom and lighting the candles in here. I deserve this indulgence after all that nonsense at work today, not to mention that weird guy walking right behind me the whole way from the train station tonight. He was creepy, reminded me of Gerard.'

'La belle et mobile… la, la, lala, la ! Yes, this is the life. I don't need that scumbag in my life anymore. Dum de dum, da ta da, e li pensionere…'

'Jesus ! What was that ?'

'What was that noise downstairs ? Well, not really a noise, more a noise out of place. I know the creaks in this house and that was not one of them. Hold your breath, wait to hear it again. No. Nothing. Sure ? Yep. Oh thank goodness. I guess that walk from the train really got you spooked this time Bobbi. I can't believe you actually got your keys in your hand and swopped to the other side of the street. It was only 9pm and it isn't a bad area, well not that bad.'

'Right now, where was I ? Oh yes, stupid Gerard. Nah, he's not worth the thought. Him or his domineering old battle-axe of a mother. I was never going to be good enough for her precious son. Old cow, I hope she gets warts on her nose.'

'Hold on a sec. That sounded like someone on the stairs. No, couldn't be. Everywhere is locked up downstairs. Bloody hell, that sounded like another step. I don't suppose a really small burgular could get in that old cat-flap, could they ? No. A burgular wouldn't come into a well-lit house with the stereo blasting, would they ? Would they ?'

'Oh I'm scaring myself bigtime tonight. I knew I shouldn't have watched "Angel" so late at night. Too many decapitations in this week's episode. I never was good with blood. I'm just freaking myself out. Right girl, breathe, come on, nice bit of yoga breathing, ok, ok. Now exhale. Ok, you're fine. You're just a nervous eejit when you get going, that's all.'

'Oh…my…God. That was definitely a noise this time. Sounds like something just fell off my bedside locker. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. There is someone in my bedroom. I can heard them going through my stuff looking for money. I'm too young to die, I knew I should have done those kick-boxing lessons with Marie. Where is she when I need her ?'

'Ok. Where's the phone handset ? Damn, downstairs in the living room. Right scrap that. If I keep the water running I can get out and lock the door at least while he thinks I'm still in the shower. Hope he can't hear the drips on the tiles. Glad that aria is good and loud. Why on earth didn't I bring any clothes into the ensuite ? What good is a damp towel against a sex-crazed intruder ?'

Click.

Silence.

'What ? The stereo just switched off ? Why ? He wants to hear my screams, Sick bastard. Something heavy. Something sharp. There's got to be something in here to hit him with. Come on, come on….ok, War and Peace, bless you hard-back editions. Maybe if I stand behind the door ?'

Door slowly opens. No creak. No sound. Silence.

Door is almost fully open now.

Poised for action.

Thud.

I dropped the book. There was no point struggling now. Next-door's cat stood in the doorway and mewed as best she could with her gob full of the stereo-remote. I looked behind her in case she was being stalked by an intruder. Nope. But the hand-cream was all over my duvet and the newspapers were scratched to bits. I kicked the cat and burst into tears.


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Copyright Grace Tierney, 2003