Page 7 of The Jealous Girl

Just us.

I let out a sigh as the memory faded. The problem was it had never really been just us. And Ryan never did get round to changing gyms in the four weeks after we came back from Malta.

Not that he needed to any more.

I shook my head, refusing to allow that thought to settle. The important thing now was I knew where Charlotte was going. Purbeck Sports Centre.

I settled back in the seat, feeling less anxious. And yet, I still smiled as the van turned off and my gaze fell on Charlotte’s car at last.

Corfe Castle came into view ahead and my gaze shifted from Charlotte’s car to the imposing ruins perched on the hilltop. Even fractured and crumbling, it was an impressive sight.

The junction for the A351 was up ahead. I watched for her right indictor as she slowed for the turning.

The left indicator flicked on instead.

Where was she going?

Maybe she had some errands to run before the gym, I reasoned quietly. Wasn’t this exactly why I was following her? To find out more about her. Her routines. Her friends. Her life.

A thread of anticipation twisted through me. There was something invigorating about plotting against your enemy. Was this how Charlotte had felt when she plotted against me?

I shifted my attention back as the road curved into the village. I expected Charlotte to follow the road straight through, but instead her right indicator blinked up ahead of me.

I slowed and flicked my own indicator on. Charlotte pulled into a parking space outside the pub. I uttered a soft murmur of thanks that it was early enough to still be quiet, as I pulled into the final empty space in the tiny parking lot. If it had been busier, I’d have had to use the main car park further down the street: it would have been too far away to keep track of her.

I couldn’t risk that.

Turning the engine off, I waited to see what Charlotte did next. It was too early for her to go to the pub, but maybe the bakery next door?

She stepped out of her car and swung the door shut. Without even casting a glance behind her, she strode along the pavement towards the bakery, but her pace didn’t slow. Instead, she rounded the corner past it. I grabbed my handbag, slid out of the Astra and scurried after her, already knowing what was around that bend. The castle entrance.

I dawdled, allowing a couple to slip ahead of me as I rummaged in my bag for my National Trust membership card. I reached the attendant and handed him my card, grateful that it didn’t have a photo on it.

‘Is it your first time visiting us here?’ he asked with a cheery smile.

I shook my head. ‘No, I’m a local.’ The word felt strange on my tongue. I’d lived in Dorset for just over two years now, yet somehow I still felt like I was only passing through. As though I was treading water in someone else’s life instead of building one of my own.

The attendant’s smile faltered slightly as disappointment flickered across his face. He’d been hoping to share his knowledge and enthusiasm for the castle, I realised with a small twinge of guilt.

Under different circumstances I might have lingered. Asked questions. Listened. I knew how welcome even a small conversation could be in the loneliness. I glanced up the path; Charlotte was already nearing the bend that led into the ruins. Today, I had other priorities to deal with.

‘Enjoy your visit,’ he said, handing my card back.

‘Thanks,’ I replied, already stepping forward, eager not to let Charlotte get too far ahead of me. After all, I hadn’t come here for the castle.

I’d come for her.

I hurried up the steep path, urgency overriding my usual caution on the uneven, worn cobblestones.

Charlotte paused near a break in the crumbling wall, stepping through the gap onto a narrow stretch of ground that overlooked the village below.

I slowed, my gaze flicking over the ruins. There were plenty of places to disappear here. I slipped off the main path, ducking into a jagged alcove. I surveyed the space, checking I was out of sight, yet still close enough to watch her through the gaps in the broken stones.

Charlotte didn’t move. She seemed transfixed on the view. I let out a frustrated sigh. Maybe she had simply come for a walk and to enjoy the view before the place filled with tourists.

And, yet, something in my gut told me there was more to it.

Charlotte checked her watch, then glanced back along the path she’d come from. I drew back, even though I was sure she couldn’t see me.