Page 32 of Cover Story

Connor blew air out.

‘If it’s going to make me look like an obdurate, unhelpful cock to say no to the northern Investigations Editor before I’veeven left probation, then I’ve not got much of a choice, have I?’

‘We would not want you mislabelled as an obdurate, unhelpful cock,’ Bel said, grinning, and Connor knew he should grin back instead of glowering, but this womanwould not stopgetting the better of him.

At least he knew how to locate the adult clothing section.

20

‘I bought chicken yesterday that was labelled Space To Thrive,’ Aaron announced into thin air, the following Friday afternoon.

He could not encounter an extended silence without throwing a leading non sequitur into it, it seemed.

Bel had been trying to concentrate on a lead about the regeneration of Holt Town last week when Aaron had informed her:Strawberry Fanta is a devotional offering in Thai Buddhism, you know.

‘My drumsticks and thighs have had a better life than we’re having,’ Aaron continued, casting his eyes up at the stained ceiling. ‘Can any of us say we’re thriving, in our allotted space?’

‘But then again our captivity will hopefully not end up with us coated in Aaron Parry’s special spicy marinade,’ Bel said.

‘You’d be lucky, darling,’ Aaron said, and Bel caught Connor making ablurghface. She wondered if his repulsion was at Aaron being lascivious, or lascivious towards her specifically, and felt quite sure it was both.

Connor’s girlfriend in his desk photograph was not merely attractive, as you’d expect, but a sort of luxury car advert, haughty beautiful. Bel could well imagine what he privatelythought of the bad taste of slumming it undercover as Mr Bel. She had a sixth sense he’d reconcile his girlfriend to it by stressing Bel was a bag lady.

No point sweating about all that now, it was happening. They’d sat on her picnic blanket, Googled him and combed through all social media together, ascertaining Connor’s Instagram and Facebook accounts were locked down as private. The visible bios had no contradictory information and girlfriend-free profile pics. As a great piece of luck, an out-of-date LinkedIn had him still working in finance.

‘I’m not sure if we give them your real surname,’ Bel had said. ‘I’m in two minds, because if neither of us appear to exist online that’s unusual enough to be a flag. If you can be on there but say you never check your accounts and are forgetful in accepting new follow requests, that might work better.’

‘What’s your explanation for why you’ve got no presence?’ Connor had asked her. ‘It’s quite unlikely for a girl about town?’

‘I’m going to tell a lurid tale about a stalker ex in York provoking me to delete it all,’ Bel said. ‘Might pay ongoing dividends in getting out of being in photos, being tagged and so on. I already told Amber I was paranoid enough to turn NameDrop off, will keep that going. Plus nightmare exes are dynamite bonding material.’

Connor had nodded and she saw no hint he might’ve twigged it was her real biography.

Bel snapped back to the present and saw an Anthony The Stalker email arrive. Usually she swiped to mark it as opened and saved the bilious detail for later. This time, she could see the line in preview was designed to spike her blood pressure and make her respond.

Hello Isabel, thought you should know I’m in Manchester today for an interview. The Ed has asked me to stop by your office and introduce myself later, in the spirit of Fourth Estate cooperation & connection. I’m letting you know in advance, so you can’t claim I ambushed you. As usual, despite continually speaking into the yawning chasm of your petulant silence, I hope you are well. Ax

Her breathing became shallower. She knew Anthony had manipulated this: both the putative reason for the journey, and calling in. She could see him, faux-casual, loitering as he left the editor’s office:isn’t Isabel Macauley there now? Wonder how that outpost project is faring? Shall I put my head round the door?

She rationalised: he can only pull this once, maybe two times, maximum. You can’t Royal visit another newspaper’s office every few weeks, using an alibi.

Why had he warned her, and given her the chance of escape? She supposed because 1. He wanted her to panic and fret and fire off a heated reply telling him that he couldn’t, and 2. Had he surprised her, she might’ve exclaimedGET LOST!and as much as Anthony wanted to humiliate her, that might’ve humiliated him too. For all he knew she’d clued her colleagues in here– he’d know there was only a couple of them. Yep, this was why she’d got this feigned courtesy.

That Ant had to have war-gamed all this stuff out carefully was really quite frightening. It was a long way from normal. Had there always been a minority subculture of men like this that she was unaware of? Would he stop if she met someone else? Bel wondered at a world where you needed men to protect you against other men, patriarchy as Mafia racket.

Bel ground her teeth, palms sweaty. If she bolted home for the rest of the day, then she’d let him chase her out. Anthony would chalk that up as a qualified win and know he could simply try again. She felt sure he’d say so.Well, Isabel, what bad luck not to catch you, I’ll hope to be luckier next time …It was better if he tried this and encountered some form of resistance.

But how, without either facing him down herself– a major win for Anthony, it was what he was hoping for– or tipping her colleagues off that this man was someone from Her Past?

She messaged Shilpa her worries.

Shilpa

He’s issuing threats, isn’t he? I mean this is harassing you at your place of work? Can’t you tell your bosses you want him barred, like in a pub?

Bel

I know how he operates: he’ll have a real interview here, he will have suggested calling in to the editor. If I go nuts saying he’s stalking me, I will end up looking nuts. And have to tell everyone what happened with my married ultra-creep boss.

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