Never Look Back Read Online Free PDF

the lights. It was a party in her room at 4 a.m.
    An hour later she lay looking at a hairline crack that ran the length of her bedroom wall. She counted the calls off in her head again, just to check she hadn’t imagined them. Four calls, on the hour, every hour since 1 a.m.. 5 a.m. flickered red on the ceiling. Had he finally given up? She tensed her aching muscles and said a silent prayer that he had, but before she could finish the thought her mobile started to ring, buzzing next to her. She couldn’t bring herself even to touch the phone any more. She rested on one elbow and looked at the screen. Her hands itched as she wrestled for the fifth time with whether to answer. He wanted her to answer. More than anything he wanted her to give in to him. The ringing stopped.
    She had coped with a fortnightly call but every night this week and then five times last night – it was too much. The mobile beeped to let her know the caller had left a voicemail. She picked up her phone and threw it at the wall. It bounced and landed at the foot of her bed. Unharmed, indestructible. She looked over at her bedroom door, at the pale light surrounding it. She couldn’t wait any longer. She threw back the duvet and dragged herself out of bed.
    In the bathroom she splashed cold water on her face and blinked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyelids were swollen. She tipped the contents of her make-up bag into the sink. The mirror had a crack running across the bottom left-hand corner where she had screwed it on too tight. The ‘one coat’ azure paint she had chosen looked tatty, with bits of the previous pink showing through where her brush strokes had been too quick. A film of dust and condensation clung to the cistern of the toilet. The tiles beneath her feet were coming loose, leaving tiny sharp corners that snagged her feet. She put her hands on either side of the basin, closing her fingers around the porcelain. Her reflection blurred at the edges but her eyes were on fire. Hers were the eyes of a hunted animal. She had nothing left to hold on to but her fear.

6
     
    24 January – Friday
     
    Lockyer reversed his Audi into a space opposite Cliffview Residential Home. The double-fronted Victorian terrace was only two miles from the centre of Lewisham, so there were no cliffs for twenty miles at least, and no view unless the identical row of houses sitting opposite could be deemed picturesque.
    The warm leather of the Audi’s curved headrest soothed his nerves as he attempted to clear his mind. He had dealt with cold-blooded murderers more times than he wanted to think about, but this guy was different, more organized, methodical. He took a deep breath and leaned forward against the steering wheel. His mind was still racing, Debbie’s face so vivid it was making his chest ache. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as images of the crime scene crowded in on him. He took the keys out of the ignition and climbed out of the car. The smog, even this close to town, had vanished. The air was crisp but the clouds looked heavy with snow.
    The red brick of the house was damp, a shimmer of steam rising from the masonry as the sun burnt off the previous night’s downpour. He had never and would never take his work into this place. The staff didn’t even know he was a copper. The idea of the macabre side of his profession somehow infecting the vulnerable minds within was too much to bear. He walked up the small driveway to the covered front door, a small keypad off to the side. The code changed once every three months. He punched in the new number.
    As he entered the hallway he noticed Amber, one of the carers. She was on the phone, absently picking at a frayed edge of flowered wallpaper. He had been coming here for almost five years now, so he knew better than to disturb her. Amber was patient and kind to the four men and two women who called Cliffview their home but she had a quick temper for anyone else,