It was the dream that woke Olivia. A dream featuring Toby of all people.
With everything going on, why the hell was she dreaming about her ex-boyfriend, especially when she hadn’t seen him in over a year?
In the dream he had been pestering her to get back together. Of course she didn’t want to because she was with Noah now. Except she couldn’t find Noah. She looked frantically everywhere, with Toby in hot pursuit, gradually wearing her down until she agreed to give him another chance. Then she walked into her bedroom and found Toby in their bed with her. The slut with the red hair. She was riding him, just like she had done in the video Olivia had seen, long wild hair falling across her face, but then she shoved it back and looked directly at Olivia, smiling, and her face was Fern’s. Beneath her on the bed, Toby had glanced up to see who Fern was smiling at and his face had morphed into Noah’s.
That was when she had woken with a start, for a split second convinced it had been real, and that Noah really had cheated on her. Relief washed over her as she realised it had just been a dream.
She couldn’t settle after that, lying in the dark for a while, listening to Noah’s even breathing, needing to pee and desperate for a glass of water (damn you, red wine) but too lazy to move, Toby’s betrayal all too clear in her mind.
She didn’t regret breaking up with him, no longer felt that raw aching hurt, but the anger still burned at how he had cheated on her and the crass, humiliating way in which she had found out about it. How the video that had been uploaded on to his Facebook account had been seen by all their friends and family, many of them viewing it before Olivia had.
Toby had of course deleted it as soon as it came to his attention, but by then the damage was done. Besides, people had downloaded it, a few so-called friends helpfully forwarding it to Olivia, just in case she had missed it. She had watched it a dozen times or more. Toby on his back, the redhead riding him.
Of course he had tried to apologise, called it a mistake and a regret, but the damage was already done. She had kicked him out, called time on their relationship, clawed the money together to buy him out of the house.
She had no idea if he was still with the redhead, doubted it, as Toby had been livid about the video, but honestly, she didn’t care what he was doing now or who he was with.
Why the hell then was she dreaming about him?
She checked her phone, saw it was just after 3.30, which meant she had only had a couple of hours sleep. Throwing back her side of the duvet, she eased herself out from under Noah’s leg, which had somehow made its way over both of hers, and quietly crept across her bedroom, careful not to step on the discarded clothes that littered her path to the door.
She had been stressed and a little bit emotional about the notes, her encounter with Fern and talking about the past. Noah’s solution had been to distract her with sex and, to give the man credit, he had certainly managed to do that.
Olivia unhooked her dressing gown from the back of the bedroom door, slipped it on, and glanced back at him. The light from the moon shone through a crack in the curtains and she could see he had his face mashed into one of her pillows and was looking very comfortable in her bed. She had to admit that she liked seeing him there. Letting herself out of the bedroom, she used the bathroom before tiptoeing downstairs, not turning any lights on until she reached the hall. Although Noah seemed dead to the world, she didn’t want to wake him.
The heating having long gone off, the house was freezing, the tiled floor cold beneath her bare feet as she padded into the kitchen, and she wished she had put her slippers on.
She quickly got her drink of water, gulping down a glassful, then refilling it to take upstairs. As she made her way back along the hallway, a loud creak came from the lounge.
Olivia froze.
Was that a footstep?
Is someone in there?
She stayed where she was, not daring to move, barely daring to breath. It’s nothing, she tried to convince herself. It’s an old house and old houses creak. She was seriously getting paranoid.
But what if it wasn’t nothing? What if someone was in there?
She could quickly run upstairs, though that would involve passing the doorway, and irrational as it was, she couldn’t shake the thought of something, someone stepping out of the darkness of the living room and grabbing hold of her as she tried to flee up the stairs.
If she screamed for Noah she would likely wake him, but how quickly would he react? And how stupid would she feel if it turned out to be nothing?
She found out the answer to both questions just a few seconds later when she decided to brave it and go for the stairs, creeping a couple of steps forward, holding her breath and fearful of letting it out. As she was about level with the doorway to the lounge, there was another much louder creak and something banged, then footsteps.
She didn’t hesitate this time. She screamed, dropping the glass and running for the stairs as it smashed. Her toe caught the bottom step and she tripped, landing face first on the stairs.
As she frantically tried to get to her feet, noises came from above.
‘Liv?’
Noah charged downstairs, jeans half on, was with her before she had even pulled herself up from her spectacular faceplant.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘The living room,’ she whispered. ‘I heard someone in there.’
He hauled her to her feet. ‘Go wait upstairs.’
‘Be careful of the broken glass.’ Olivia whispered the warning as he approached the room and reached for the light. She didn’t do as told, staying where she was, leaning against the wall to support her trembling legs, eyes on Noah’s back.
As light flooded the room, he disappeared, and she held her breath, waiting.
No voices, no sinister sounds. Then he was heading back into the hallway with Luna in his arms, a neutral expression on his face, as he handed her over.
Seriously, it had been the fucking cat?
Olivia held Luna close for a moment, burying her face in the warm soft fur of her neck, putting her down when she wriggled. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. She had freaked out and woken him up over nothing. She really was starting to lose the plot.
‘I’m sorry. I really thought…’ She tailed off, glancing at the smashed glass of water. ‘I need to clear this up. Go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you.’
He touched her cheek, pressed a kiss to her forehead, but didn’t say anything as he headed back upstairs. Jesus, she really needed to get her shit together. Noah had been more than patient with her, but he was going to start thinking he had a complete basket case for a girlfriend.
He was still awake when she returned to the bedroom and she felt a fresh wave of guilt for disturbing him as she crawled back under the duvet. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told him again, as he slipped his arm around her.
‘It’s been a difficult couple of weeks. Get some sleep, Liv.’
She closed her eyes, knew she had to try, though sleep seemed far away now. Instead images of Toby, the redhead, of Fern and Margaret, and of Gary Lamb burning in the kitchen of 8 Honington Lane, consumed her thoughts. She lay on her back for a few minutes then shuffled so she was on her side, her back to Noah.
After a moment he nuzzled in close, his warm breath on her ear. ‘You’re still awake.’
It wasn’t a question.
‘I have too much going on in my head. I can’t switch off.’
He didn’t comment on that, was quiet for a few moments, then she felt his hand on her thigh, fingertips lazily tracing circles on her skin, sending little sparks down through her belly. ‘We should do something about that then,’ he whispered, gently nipping her earlobe between his teeth.
‘It’s the middle of the night. I have to go to work in a few hours.’ It was only a token protest, her body already responding to his, as she arched back against him giving his hand easier access to her front.
‘Mmm, but you can’t sleep, remember?’
His fingers dipped lower, though not close enough to where she wanted them, slowly tormenting, and she shivered in pleasure as his mouth trailed hot kisses down her neck. Craving more, she tried to roll towards him, but his arm held her in position against his chest as he teased, torturously slow and relentless, and her need intensified until she was squirming against him, could think of little else but him and what he was doing to her.
The shrill ring of the landline telephone cut through the silence and Olivia froze.
Noah’s hand stilled. ‘Seriously? It’s the middle of the night.’ He loosened his hold around her, easing back, and gave her a gentle prod with his knee when she didn’t move. ‘Should you not answer that? It could be your mum or Jamie.’
‘But what if it’s…’
She didn’t have to finish the sentence. He knew who she meant. ‘Well it doesn’t sound as if they’re giving up.’ Rolling Olivia forward, he leant over and grabbed the receiver held it between them. For a moment there was silence.
Eventually Olivia spoke, her voice shaky. ‘Hello?’
More silence then that menacing whisper. There had only been the one phone call and several days ago, but she hadn’t forgotten the voice nor the chill that ran through her when her tormentor spoke. This time, though, it was just one word.
‘Soon.’
‘Who is this?’ Noah demanded.
More silence and then the line went dead.
Olivia shivered, struggling to keep the fear out of her voice. ‘I don’t like this, Noah. It’s really starting to give me the creeps.’
He didn’t comment, instead clambering over her and out of bed, yanking the phone cable from the wall. A scowl on his face, he skulked round to his side of the bed and climbed under the duvet, wrapping himself around her.
The mood killed, he pressed a kiss against her hair, gently rubbed his hand up and down her arm. ‘I’m gonna find out who’s doing this, Liv. I promise.’
