As the last group left the restaurant, Olivia Blake followed them to the door, setting the sign to closed and turning the lock.
It had been a busy evening, the start of the Christmas party season, with a rowdy table of twelve taking up most of her time. Olivia had humoured them, returning plates to the kitchen when two of the girls, who were outrageously drunk before they had even been served their starters, were insistent they had ordered differently, while avoiding the middle-aged letch who tried to touch her arse as she set down drink and food orders. At the end of the night she had painted on a smile at their generous £4 tip and wished them a happy Christmas, even though it was still almost a month away.
‘Feel sorry for me.’ Her brother, Jamie, grinned from across the room, where he was wiping down the bar counter. ‘I have to put up with this for another three weeks.’
‘Oh, pull the other one. You love it!’ Olivia finished clearing the table, expertly balancing dishes and glasses, and taking them through to the kitchen, where her mother was loading the dishwasher.
‘Thanks for helping out tonight, Livvy. I know you had to cancel plans.’
Olivia set the dirty crockery down. ‘It’s no bother. It was only a drink out with work and I wasn’t really looking forward to it.’
That was the truth. She worked in an estate agents and her colleagues weren’t exactly a barrel of laughs. Her boss, Roger, was too tight to shell out for a Christmas meal, so they were supposed to meet for a drink instead. Olivia’s only female colleague had phoned in sick, and she had been dreading spending the evening with just Roger and his smarmy protégé, Jeremy.
Her mother calling to say they had a full house in the family restaurant and asking if she could spare a hand had been a welcome excuse to cancel. Roger and Jeremy would have had more fun without her and at least she hadn’t had to put up with their snide comments and sexual innuendos all night.
‘Is there anything else you want me to help with before I head off?’
Elena Blake shook her head. ‘I have it covered. You’re welcome to stay the night if you want.’ She offered every time, always hoping Olivia would say yes.
‘I have Luna waiting at home.’ (And a new season of Mindhunter she was looking forward to, but she didn’t add that bit. Her mother wouldn’t appreciate coming second to Netflix.)
‘You said Molly’s away. I don’t like you going back to that big empty house alone.’
‘You worry too much, Mum.’ Olivia kissed the top of Elena’s head before slipping on her coat. ‘I’ll be fine.’
She called her goodbyes through to her brother, promised her mum she would message once she was home, then stepped out of the back entrance into the cold wind.
She found the envelope pinned under her wiper blade, flapping in the breeze. She didn’t take much notice of it until she was huddled inside the car. It was bitter out with an arctic chill and her windscreen had already started to ice. Turning on the engine and blasting the heater, swearing because she had forgotten her gloves, she glanced at the envelope. It had her name typed on the front.
A Christmas card? Curious, she opened it and pulled out the sheet of notepaper.
A long, long time ago, you did a bad, bad thing.
Everyone’s past catches up with them eventually, including yours. Soon.
What the hell?
She would have dismissed it immediately as someone’s idea of a joke, but it was addressed to her, so it had been intended for her. Of course that still didn’t mean it wasn’t a joke. Though she couldn’t think who the hell would find it funny.
But if it wasn’t a joke, that meant it was a threat. She didn’t like that idea and couldn’t think of anything bad she had done.
Who had left it on her windscreen? As the car windows began to clear, she glanced around the dark car park warily. No one was around, at least that she could see, and hers was the only vehicle parked there. The envelope could have been left at any point during the evening, but still unease crept up her spine, and she locked the car doors, figuring better safe than sorry.
Maybe I should take Mum up on her offer of a bed for the night. As soon as Olivia considered the idea, she dismissed it. She wouldn’t let herself be spooked by what was obviously a prank. Besides, if she went back inside, her mum would want to know why she had changed her mind, and Olivia wasn’t up for explaining.
Elena would only freak out, worrying about her every time she was home alone, and honestly, after a full day at work then a busy evening serving tables, all Olivia wanted was to have a quick shower and slip into her own bed, watch a bit of TV and, Luna’s mood permitting, snuggle with her cat.
She pulled out of the car park on to the quiet road. The grassy bank opposite that led up from the river was covered with a sprinkling of frost that, along with the string of overhead fairy lights, made it look decidedly festive.
Turning on the radio for company, she sang along to Starship’s ‘Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now’ – glad she had swerved the work drinks and wondering if Roger and Jeremy were still out in the city bars. She suspected they would be. No doubt getting drunk somewhere on Prince of Wales Road or making their way to a strip club. She shuddered at the thought.
It was while cutting through Thorpe St Andrew that she first noticed the car behind her. She hadn’t spotted it initially (probably because she had been too busy with her singalong) and at first she didn’t really take any notice. It was almost comforting to not be the only car on the road. But as she headed out into the countryside, towards the Norfolk Broads village of Salhouse, she was aware of the headlights behind her, knew that she had taken half a dozen turns and the car was still on her tail.
Was she being followed?
Jesus, Liv. Get a grip.
It was a ridiculous thought and it was quite plausible that someone else might be taking this route home. The note was making her paranoid. Her attention went back to the implied threat.
A long, long time ago, you did a bad, bad thing.
How long ago was she supposed to have done this thing? When she was in her twenties or possibly even her teens? There was honestly not a single time she could remember wronging anyone.
Everyone’s past catches up with them eventually, including yours. Soon.
The last part of the note was definitely a threat. Did whoever wrote it plan to expose this thing that she had supposedly done? In which case, Olivia was intrigued to find out what it was she was being accused of.
Or were they planning on taking revenge? That was the bit she didn’t like. Did someone intend to hurt her?
She glanced again at the headlights behind her, aware she was tensing when she pulled off the main road and the car indicated, following her.
She was being stupid.
But what if the person who left the note was the same person who was behind her? What if they had waited for her to finish work before following her home?
Whoever had left the note knew her name. So did that mean they knew that she was home alone, that her lodger was away and her boyfriend was out of town?
She tried to calm her nerves, told herself to stop being ridiculous. This wasn’t some stupid movie.
Still, as she turned into the street where she lived, saw the headlights sweep by, she breathed a sigh of relief, annoyed at her overreaction.
The relief was tempered with apprehension when she realised she hadn’t left the outside light on. Eager to get inside, she bolted from the car then hotfooted it across the driveway to her front door, fumbling with the key. The quiet location where she lived had its perks, but it wasn’t the most welcoming place to return home to in the dark. A couple of years ago, when she had bought the house with her ex-boyfriend, Toby, she had appreciated the high hedgerow and how far apart it was from the other properties in the road; but now things had changed. In the winter, and especially if Molly, her lodger, was away with work, it was a little too secluded for her liking.
Once locked inside, she kicked off her shoes, groaning in relief as she stretched her toes and rubbed at the balls of her feet, quickly messaged her mum, then headed straight upstairs to shower and change into her PJs. Her cat, Luna, commandeered the centre of the bed and Olivia picked her up for a cuddle, before pulling back the duvet.
She was about to turn on the TV when her landline phone rang. The only person who ever used it was her mother, and fearing something had happened in the brief spell since she had left the restaurant, she snatched up the receiver.
‘Hello?’
There was silence on the line.
‘Mum, is that you?’
A noise – it sounded like scratching – then a low whisper. ‘A long, long time ago, you did a bad, bad thing. Everyone’s past catches up with them eventually, including yours. Soon.’
