The Surrogate

They’d have you for it.’

Brotherton shook his head. ‘Don’t I know it.You can’t do anythin’ these days. Don’t know what the fuckin’ world’s comin’ to.’

Phil sat back, swallowed the smile. ‘Tell me about it.’

He had him.

40

I t was nearly time.

He had parked in just the right place – not too near to the entry of the estate, not far enough in to attract suspicion from residents. Not that they bothered him too much. He could have walked into every house on this estate if he had wanted to and stolen something from each of them without them realising. The kind of people that lived in these types of houses were so intent on looking out for leering tabloid monsters that they missed the ones already in their midst.

Broad daylight. Or as broad as the grey November sky would allow.The time when most home invasions occurred.

He switched the engine off, waited. He made a mental plan of what he would do, based on his surveillance and research, what obstacles to look out for, random factors to try and account for. He checked he had everything he needed in his bag on the passenger seat. Satisfied, he sat back.Thought himself into the right frame of mind.

This was being done hurriedly. Normally he would spend weeks – months, even – planning something like this. But he didn’t have months or weeks. Or even days. He needed another baby now to replace the other one.That wasn’t important to him, though. It was all about the hunt.The chase.The kill.That was all that mattered. Everything else was justification. Excuse. This was everything.

He made one more inventory, one more mental check, and was ready.

He tucked the hammer up the sleeve of his overcoat, got out of his vehicle.

Walked up the road.

He could smell his prey on the wind.

41

Graeme Eades could barely keep his hands steady on the steering wheel he was so excited.

A whole afternoon with Erin. Not just a snatched lunch break in an empty storeroom or a quick fumble in the front seat of his Seat parked up in a shadowed corner at the back of an out-of-town supermarket car park. No. Actually the whole afternoon. Together.

He pulled up in front of the Holiday Inn, switched off the engine. The hotel was outside Colchester at Eight Ash Green, laid out in what Graeme supposed was a low-level American ranch style, holding the usual business-traveller facilities. He knew this from arranging stays there for associates. But that didn’t bother him now. He wouldn’t be using the gym or the pool or going for a spa treatment. For one thing he wouldn’t be there long enough, and for another, his time was all accounted for. And it was sufficiently out of the way of the town centre so he wouldn’t run the risk of bumping into anyone.

He got out of the car, grabbing the carrier bag from the passenger seat, locking the door behind him. He had paid a visit to Ann Summers before leaving the town centre, stocking up on clothing and accessories to make his afternoon as memorable as he had imagined it would be. Stockings, a basque, crotchless panties, all in Erin’s size. He had checked when she hadn’t been looking. Then there were the accessories. Creams, lotions, oils, toys… he had gone to town. Once inside he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Just had to have everything. The girl behind the counter had looked taken aback and he’d replied with a wide grin. She wasn’t bad either, he had thought. A bit short, perhaps, and could do with losing a few pounds, but he wouldn’t have said no. Could just imagine using some of the stuff he was buying on her. Imagine her face as she came… He knew what she was thinking when she was ringing up the prices for his items and bagging them up. Someone’s going to be lucky. That’s what. The thought of that made him grin all the more. He had winked at her as he took the carrier bag. She hadn’t returned it but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need her and had forgotten about her as soon as he left the shop. He had Erin to think about. And Erin was all he needed.

Erin. He crossed the car park to the front of the hotel. Erin. He couldn’t believe his luck. When she’d started in his company he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. None of the men had. And probably a few of the ladies if they were honest, thought Graeme with a lascivious smile. She was young, brunette and well curved. And she liked everyone to know it. He didn’t know what she actually did, something in accounts, perhaps, but he knew the effect she had on him. He had watched her move around the office, her hips rolling, her breasts held high, a smile for everyone. That was it, he thought. She just looked so happy to be there, so happy to be herself. Her smile saying she would be up for anything as long as it was fun.

Not like Caroline at home. She had changed, and really quickly. Big and fat and complaining all the time of aches and pains. And her hand constantly out. Money for the hairdressers. For new clothes. A new fucking car, for Christ’s sake. He had bought them all, just to keep her quiet. He thought the arrival of a new child was supposed to be a joyous affair, but this was nothing like that. He was glad to get away from her. And what a relief to be with someone who was totally the opposite of that.

He couldn’t believe how easy the whole thing had been. How it had come together. Erin had been in his office one day, bringing in something for him to sign, bending over the desk so he got a good shot right down her cleavage, and before he could stop himself he had blurted out: ‘God, I bet you’re good in bed.’

Before he even had time to turn red she had replied: ‘I am. Want to find out how good?’

And that had been that. Not an office romance, because romance had very little to do with it. Just lust. Sex. Pounding, thrusting, hard sex. Anywhere and everywhere they could. At any opportunity. It was brilliant. And so much cheaper than paying for it. But Graeme wasn’t stupid. He knew that there was a chance she might not be doing this if he wasn’t her boss. She had already mentioned promotion a few times. Graeme didn’t mind. Anything he could do to help. Anything that would keep her there longer.

He entered the foyer, went up to reception. ‘Room booked for Mr and Mrs Eades,’ he said to the young girl behind the counter. She checked her screen.

As she did so, Graeme caught sight of himself in the mirrored surface in front of him. He had lost a little weight since Erin. Started dressing better too, even getting his hair cut more fashionably. He looked again at the image. But he still couldn’t hide the fact that he was, essentially, a man tottering on the brink of middle age, doing what he could to turn back time. Oh well, he thought, chasing the image away and getting ready for some fun, at least he hadn’t bought a red sports car.

The receptionist came back from the screen with the details, asked him to fill in a card. Told him what time breakfast was, ran through the list of amenities the hotel provided. Graeme wanted to scream: I don’t care about your fucking breakfast! I’ll only be here this afternoon to fuck the brains out of one of my employees! After that I’m gone! But he didn’t. Instead he listened patiently and smiled when she had finished. Took his key card and went to the room, where he laid all his purchases out on the bed and let his fevered imagination start to run riot.

As he took objects from their packaging and inserted batteries, checked they were working, a thought crossed his mind. He was supposed to have gone home this afternoon. Caroline knew he was leaving early. He had promised to do the supermarket run, as she was too heavy to move. Or too fucking lazy. Still had time to meet her friends for lunch. That he paid for.

Ah well, he thought. She’ll just have to wait.

He turned the pink jellied vibrator on, felt it buzzing in his hand and smiled. Perfect, he thought, checking his