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things I always liked about you.'
One of the only things, Leonie thought ruefully as he went into the bathroom. The statement had reminded her of
exactly who they were, of the fact that they were in the process of divorcing each other; she had been in danger of
forgetting that fact with Adam being so boyishly charming.
He was still in the bathroom when the telephone began ringing. God, she had forgotten it was Friday night, hadn't
realised it was already eleven-thirty!
'Yes?' she grabbed up the receiver, not in the least surprised when she recognised the caller's voice, giving a mental
groan as Adam came out of the bathroom, frowning when he saw she was on the telephone. 'Oh yes?' Leonie
answered her caller faintly. 'How interesting. Look, I'm sorry,' she cut in hastily as Adam approached. 'But I can't
talk just now.' She slammed the receiver down, smiling brightly at Adam.
He frowned down at her. 'Who on earth telephones at this time of night?' he asked slowly.
She shrugged. 'I remember you did a couple of times during the two weeks before we were married.'
'That was different,' he dismissed.
'Why was it?'
'Because if I couldn't be in bed with you then I wanted to at least talk to you while you were in bed,' he told her
absently, his thoughts obviously still on the call she had just taken.
'Maybe my caller felt the same way,' her voice was shrill at the irony of that statement.
'Is he the one that owns the man's razor in the bathroom?'
Her mouth tightened. 'I'm the one who owns the man's razor in the bathroom,' she bit out resentfully. 'For some
reason they happen to be cheaper and easier to find than the so-called women's razors are. And please don't ask why
I need a razor,' she glared at him.
His mouth quirked. 'I won't.'
'Then let me say I don't appreciate your prying into my bathroom cabinet. The medicine chest is next to it,' she
snapped.
'And the scissors were conspicuous in their absence,' he pointed out softly.
She remembered now, she had used them to cut a broken fingernail, and must have put them back in the wrong
cabinet. 'Well I don't see that it's any business of yours even if the razor had belonged to a man,' she told him
huffily.
Adam shrugged. 'I'm a very possessive lover.'
'You aren't -------'
'Just as I expect you to be,' he continued softly, his gaze compelling.
'Being possessive didn't do me much good while I was your wife,' she reminded waspishly.
He shrugged. 'I've already admitted what a lousy husband I was.'
'And assured me you're a fantastic lover!' she derided harshly.
'And very possessive,' he nodded, his eyes narrowed. 'Which means I want to know who would call you this time of
night?'
She had hoped to divert him off the subject, she should have realised he wasn't a man to be diverted. 'A friend,' she
dismissed. 'I They work nights,' she added desperately.
Adam frowned. 'Is that supposed to explain why they would call at eleven-thirty at night?'
'It goes on the company's telephone bill?' she suggested with a grimace for her inadequacy at lying.
'Not good enough, Leonie,' he shook his head.
'I want to know-------' he broke off as the telephone began to ring again, picking up the receiver before Leonie had a
chance to do so.
Leonie paled, knowing that the person on the other end of the line wouldn't realise from Adam's silence that it
wasn't her he was talking to. She could guess what Adam's reaction was going to be.
'That's very interesting,' he suddenly ground out fiercely. 'Now let me tell you what I'd like to
do to you ------------' his teeth snapped together as the caller obviously rang off, slamming his own receiver down
with suppressed violence. 'How long has this been going on?' he demanded to know.
She pulled a face, knowing she couldn't evade answering him. 'Ever since I moved in here.'
'And how long is that?'
She shrugged. 'Six months or so.'
Adam's mouth compressed into a thin line.
'And is he always so so -------'
'Obscene?' she finished with a grimace. 'I think that's how those sort of calls got their name!'
She knew exactly what Adam would have heard when he picked up the telephone, had heard the same revolting
filth only minutes earlier. The first time she had received such a call she had felt so sick she was almost physically
ill, had felt so threatened she had moved into a hotel for the night. The second time she had been angry, so angry
she called the police. They sent someone round to talk to her, but in the end all they could advise was that she
change her telephone number. But the calls had still continued. She still felt sick at the disgusting things he said to
her each week, but she no longer felt threatened, was sure after all this time that whoever he was he preferred to
violate her over the telephone, that he wouldn't actually come to her home and carry out the things he threatened.
'Have you done anything about it?' Adam grated, the nerve pulsing in his jaw telling of his anger.
Leonie sighed. 'I've changed my telephone number twice, but it's made no difference.'
Adam frowned. 'He got your new number both times?'
She nodded. 'Even though they're unlisted.'
'How often does he call?' Adam's eyes were narrowed.
'Every Friday night at eleven-thirty,' she sighed. 'There's nothing we can do, Adam, and as long as he stays on the
other end of that telephone I can cope with it. Actually, he's getting a little boring now,' she grimaced. 'His fantasy
seems to be stuck in a groove.'
'I heard,' Adam rasped.
'Interesting idea, isn't it,' she dismissed with bravado. 'I've told him I think we could do ourselves a mischief, but he
------'
'Leonie!' Adam cautioned tightly. 'Can't you take anything seriously?'
'I thought you always liked my sense of humour!'
'Not about something like this,' he said grimly, his hands thrust into his denims pockets. 'The man's a damned fruit-
cake, how can you make jokes about it!'
'How?' her voice cracked emotionally. Til tell you how! Because every Friday night I live in dread of those calls,
and every Friday night at eleven-thirty he calls without fail. In a way it's a relief when he does call, at least then I
can relax for another week. You see, I have a theory,' her voice was shrill. 'That while he continues to call he won't
actually come here.'
'You think he knows where you live?' Adam frowned.
'I would say it's a logical assumption,' she nodded. 'If he can get my telephone number three times he can certainly
get my address!'
'Then you can't stay here,' Adam decided arrogantly.
'Oh but I can,' she told him. 'I thought about moving, but don't you see,' she reasoned at his furious expression, 'I'm
as safe here as I can be anywhere. This man obviously has the means at his fingertips to find out anything he wants
to know about me. If I move he'll know that too, so why go through the bother of it?' She shrugged.
'Then you can't stay here alone,' Adam told her grimly.
'Are you offering your services as bodyguard, Adam?' she mocked.
'And if I were?'
She shook her head. 'I don't need, or want, a live-in lover.'
'Have you been to the police about this?'
'There's nothing they can do. The man doesn't threaten me, he just talks dirty!'
'He talks about violating you!'
'And do you realise how many obscene telephone calls are received and reported each year? I can tell you that it's
thousands,' she said wearily. 'The police don't have enough people to follow up on all of them. They asked me all
the usual questions, did I know of anyone who would want to do this to me, did I recognise his voice? I don't, and I
didn't! It's all I can do to stop myself being sick when he calls. Now can we drop the subject, hm?' she said brittlely. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]