The One You Trust Read Online Free PDF Page B

Adrian Spencer’s words resonated in her mind, she pulled the envelope that the capped individual had hand-delivered out of her bag.
    You’re at risk of missing the real danger.
    She thought about the contents of the packet.
    Was the real danger much closer to home?
    Just considering that possibility was the most terrifying thought of all.

Chapter 5
    David Sherborn looked at his watch again. It was mid-afternoon, half an hour after the scheduled arrival time of a mother and baby group at his studios. He’d tried to call the girl who had coordinated the group for the photography session, but there had been no reply.
    ‘You okay?’ His wife, Helen, stuck her head around the door that separated the purpose-built studio annex from the rest of the house.
    He glanced at his watch again. ‘They’re probably not going to turn up.’
    ‘Maybe they’re running late?’
    He shook his head. ‘One person being late I can imagine, but a group of seven mothers and babies? At least one or two of them would have been here by now.’
    She nodded her agreement. ‘Sorry. What a pain – it’s so annoying when people just let you down like that. Are you still okay if I pop out to the shops for a bit? You don’t fancy coming along?’
    ‘I’d better wait here.’
    ‘I’ll be back soon,’ Helen said. ‘See you in a bit.’
    Just after Helen had left, David tried to call the woman again. This time she answered.
    ‘Hi, is that Angie? It’s David Sherborn here, from Sherborn Photography. You’ve got a session booked for this afternoon, and I was just . . . right, okay, yes, I understand . . . Well, maybe you’d like to rearrange? . . . Okay, I’ll wait to hear from you.’ He ended the call.
    She’d apologised profusely, saying that her son had been unwell for the past few days, and although she’d called the rest of the group to say they shouldn’t go ahead, she’d forgotten to cancel the appointment with him.
    This kind of thing had happened before – it was an inevitable consequence of his policy not to charge any money up-front for his studio-based photography sessions. But it was particularly annoying on a Saturday – his busiest day by far, where a wasted appointment slot cost him hundreds of pounds.
    At least he could make good use of the time, now he knew for certain that they weren’t going to show up. He decided to do some housekeeping.
    He powered up his computer, a top-of-the-range Apple Mac with a 17-inch screen. The machine was expensive, but cost-effective – it was amazing for taking clients through their images. Parents especially drooled at the sight of their children on the big screen, in stunning high resolution. The photographs sold themselves.
    He decided to catalogue some images from the previous week, and then back up some older images from the computer onto a portable hard drive. It was tedious work, but it had to be done. To lose any of the images would be a disaster, both financially and from a professional point of view.
    Pausing after half an hour to make a coffee, he yawned his way through to the kitchen. When he returned to the machine with his cappuccino, another digital folder of photos on the screen caught his eye. It was the photographs he had taken for Emma and Lizzy, which had revealed the identity of the man who had been following them.
    He opened up a slide show and sat back as the images faded in and out, one after another. It was the first time he had gone back to them since his meeting with Emma and Lizzy, around eight weeks ago, and he didn’t know what was drawing him to look at them again now. Maybe it was because he was proud of what he had done: the act had been reparation for his earlier behaviour, when, at the behest of a client, Guy Roberts, he had not only invaded the privacy of Emma and her friends, but also frightened her by taking paparazzi-style photos that were later splashed across the newspapers. The photos – taking advantage of the distressing