The sweat formed on Charlie’s brow as he increased his speed. He tried not to think about Daisy walking off with a stranger while his son flirted with some girls from school.
He tried not to think about his wife’s dismissive attitude about the entire incident.
And he tried not to think about his son’s words describing the way Beth behaved when she arrived back at the car.
I’ve never seen her like that before. She was manic. A different person.
It took a lot to get any sort of reaction from their teenaged son. He was usually unfazed by anything. He was so laid-back Charlie and Beth often wondered and discussed if he might be smoking dope. But they never smelled it on him, and Beth even searched his room a few times, to no avail. Charlie surmised that their son inherited the calmness he had always seen in his wife. The calmness that had deserted her at the weekend, if what Peter described to him was accurate. Peter seemed genuinely worried about her.
That was enough to make Charlie concerned. He glanced down at the timer display. He’d been going for twenty minutes, and the sweat was dripping from every pore now.
The light flickered on around the corner, shaking Charlie from his thoughts. He turned his head, waiting to see if someone came into view, but when they didn’t, he shrugged and resumed his run.
After a while the light turned off. Damn building was always going wrong. Music continued to throb in his ears, the beat working in time with his feet as they pounded away.
The lights came on again.
Charlie stopped the treadmill and paused the music on his phone. He stepped down, removing his earbuds.
‘Hello?’ he called out.
Silence.
He walked down to the corner, peering round into the bigger part of the gym. Three large pillars blocked most of his view but looking at the wall of mirrors running down one entire side of the room, nobody appeared to be present. Charlie threw his towel from his shoulders down onto the floor, marching around the corner.
‘Hello, is someone there?’ he shouted.
No reply.
‘Derek, is that you? This isn’t funny,’ he called out.
Silence.
He moved to one side to see around a pillar and as he did, he heard the door click shut.
Stepping forward, something on the floor in the middle of the room caught his eye.
A small red box, tied with a gold ribbon, and a bow on top. Charlie frowned, wiping perspiration from his face with the back of his hand. He peered through the glass-panelled door. There was nobody there.
He trudged back to the box, picking it up. It was extremely light. A handwritten tag was tied to the box.
One word. Scratchy black ink.
Charlie.
He carried the parcel, walking back towards the door. Pressing the release button, he opened it and stepped out into the corridor.
‘Hello!’ he shouted again, heading towards the stairs. The lights were all on, showing someone passed this way moments earlier.
He threw open the door, stepping out into the stairwell. He looked up through the gap in the centre but saw nobody ascending them. Whoever deposited the box left in a hurry.
Charlie returned to the changing room and sat on a bench. He untied the ribbon, opening the package.
Inside was a small piece of paper.
With trembling hands, he unfolded it, revealing a handwritten note. He swallowed hard as he read the words, then shivered, despite his body temperature being raised.
He dressed without showering, folded the note up, placing it into his pocket, and headed quickly out to his car.
8
The words from the note kept circling through Charlie’s mind during the entire drive home. He drove angrily, dangerously at times. Usually an exemplary motorist, tonight he didn’t care. Wanting, instead, to get home as quickly as possible to speak to Beth about the note.
As he walked in through the door, he heard the familiar sound of the telly blaring out from the lounge. He stepped into the room, pulling off his leather jacket, and slung it onto the armchair. Beth looked up. Charlie picked up the remote and turned off the TV.
‘Oi, I was watching that!’ Beth protested.
‘Where are the kids?’
‘Peter’s out with Zoe. I told him to be home by ten. Daisy’s in bed.’
Charlie pulled the note out of his pocket, fiddling with it between his thumb and fingers. He didn’t take his eyes off Beth. He threw the note at her.
‘Charlie, what the hell are you doing?’
‘Read it.’
Beth leaned forward from her armchair, picking the piece of paper up from the floor. She unfolded it and read the words. Charlie regarded her intently. He watched her face change, a fleeting look of… what was it? Fear, panic maybe? Whatever it was, was replaced quickly by anger.
‘What’s this?’ she asked.
‘I was hoping you could tell me that.’
Beth frowned. ‘I haven’t got a clue.’ She passed the note back to him.
‘Bullshit, Beth.’
Charlie read the words aloud.
‘How well do you know your wife? Seems like a fairly straightforward question to me.’
‘Where did this come from?’
Charlie sat down on the sofa, letting out a long breath before answering. ‘Somebody left it for me at work this evening.’
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘I was jogging, and someone came into the gym and left that on the floor.’
‘How do you know it was meant for you?’
‘Because it was in a pretty little gift box with my name written on it!’ Charlie bellowed.
Beth stood up, crossing to the living room door, closing it softly. ‘Shh, you’ll wake Daisy!’ she hissed.
‘Right now I don’t actually give a shit, Beth! I want to know what the hell is going on.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Something weird is happening here. It started on Friday night with that note through the door. I thought nothing of it at first. But then with what
