Night Watcher by Chris Longmuir

the corridor hid. She suspected they were mostly store cupboards or maintenance areas, although one of them probably led to the sub-basement which was not accessible to the sales and store staff.
    The door at the end of the corridor swung shut after she pushed through it and emerged onto the mid-landing of the staff staircase. At the bottom of the stairs was the food hall and restaurant; while the coffee shop was upstairs on the store’s ground floor.
    Julie went downstairs because she knew the coffee shop would not be ready for business yet. Betty, who saw to the restaurant, would have the kettle boiling and the coffee pot on, and she desperately needed the cup of coffee she had been promising herself.
    ‘Hi, Betty,’ she greeted the cook-cum-restaurant manager. ‘D’you have a paper cup of coffee for our visitor while you make me one of your lovely special coffees.’
    ‘Here you are,’ she passed the paper cup to Julie. ‘Mind it’s hot.’
    ‘Ta,’ Julie said, turning back the way she’d just come. ‘Won’t be a mo.’
    ‘You shouldn’t encourage him, you know,’ she heard Betty shout to her retreating back.
    ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but I can’t see the poor blighter freeze to death, now can I?’ Julie didn’t wait for Betty’s response.
    When she reached the outer door she hooked it back so she could get in again. ‘Here,’ she said, ‘That’ll heat you up before you have to move on.’
    The blanket heaved and a thin, blue-veined hand emerged. ‘Ta, Miss. You’ve a good heart.’ He grasped the cup.
    ‘I brought you this as well,’ Julie dropped a packet of sandwiches in the direction of his lap. She had taken them from one of the shelves in the food hall. They would never be missed.
    The tramp lifted his head and, although she could not see his face, she looked into his eyes which were of the palest shade of blue she had ever seen. There was no expression in them and they reminded her of glacier ice. They were the eyes of someone who had given up and had nothing left to live for.
    She shivered. He always made her feel cold, as if she was sharing the cold that was within him. Turning, she almost ran back into the store, not relaxing until the door slammed behind her.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
     
    The wind increased during the night keeping the worst of the frost at bay. It blew through the trees in the orchard making the branches shake and rustle while the swaying bushes joined in the chorus. It swooped and gusted and whistled round the house, rattling the roof slates and window frames. A far off shed door clattered open and shut, with ever-increasing thuds and bangs.
    Nicole slept badly, waking several times throughout the night, imagining some hidden menace within the depths of the shadows. Every creak and rustle was an intruder. She could not rid herself of the feeling she’d had the evening before that she was being watched. Even now she could still see that shape at the window, the one that had seemed more solid than a shadow.
    And yet, Scott had investigated and said there was nothing. But there was something outside, she knew there was. Scott just couldn’t see it.
    When she was a child she had been afraid of the dark. Afraid of the ghosts and goblins lurking in cupboards and dark places. Afraid of the shifting shadows that moved in the night. Afraid of her uncle who visited her bedroom when her parents were asleep. And more afraid to tell anyone about it, particularly Scott.
    However, she had not been bothered by a fear of the dark for a long time, not since her marriage anyway. That was why she was convinced someone had been outside, in the garden, spying on her.
    Last night Scott had laughed and accused her of being paranoid after he’d looked for what he had implied was an imaginary intruder, so she was not going to wake him up now and risk his ridicule again. Instead, she buried her head beneath the duvet and snuggled close to his back, knowing that as long as he was beside her she