My mouth is dry as parchment, my stomach turned to slush. They were here. Whoever it was, they came into the shop. I grip the edges of the fitting room walls. There’s no getting away from it – I really do have a stalker.

My mind races. Did they come in before closing time? Or did they come in afterwards? And if it was afterwards, then they must have had a key, because the doors were still locked and the hole in the glass was only the size of a fist. I fight the urge to reach down and mess up the letters. To erase their taunting words. But I have to leave them as evidence. The police need to see this. What will PC Ryan make of the message? Will he do something? Pass it on to a detective, who will try to find out who’s behind all this? Surely they’re going to take me more seriously now. I hope so.

After I call the police, the squad car pulls up outside the shop within a matter of minutes, back again having only just left. I open the door to greet the officers, realising that the dark strip of sky is already lightening. Dawn is here.

PC Ryan and his colleague follow me into the shop and I take them straight to the fitting room to see the letters. They glance down at the colourful pieces of plastic, and then they look at one another.

‘And you just noticed this after we’d gone?’ Ryan says.

I nod. ‘I was going out the back, to look for something to cover the broken glass, and I noticed there was this cardboard box on the floor by the fitting room.’ I hold the box out for them to see. ‘Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have touched it, but I didn’t know what it was at the time. Anyway, it’s been ripped open, as you can see. Then I saw that the fitting room curtain was closed, which is unusual as we leave them open unless someone’s getting changed.’ I’m speaking really quickly. Too quickly, almost manically. But I can’t seem to slow my words down. ‘So, I opened the curtains – I was nervous, thinking there might be someone hiding behind them, that maybe they’d been hiding back here the whole time – but when I opened the curtains… well, there was no one here, but then I saw the message. It’s creepy. Don’t you think it’s creepy?’ I babble.

‘It is a strange thing to find,’ the older officer says. He glances at PC Ryan once more, and I get the feeling they don’t think it’s as serious as I do. ‘Could it be the work of a colleague? A prank, maybe?’

‘What?’ I’m not impressed with this suggestion at all. ‘Ripping open an item of stock? Leaving the empty box on the floor, and then writing a threatening message directed at me? Not a very nice prank.’

‘No, okay,’ Ryan says. ‘We take your point.’

‘And the other thing is…’ I say. ‘You know Sergeant Llewellyn went to have a word with Leon Whittaker yesterday afternoon?’

‘She did mention it,’ Ryan says.

‘Well, straight after that, he came into the shop to apologise to me.’

He frowns. ‘After Llewellyn asked him to keep his distance?’

‘And then he got angry, because I asked him to leave.’

‘Was he threatening?’

‘He didn’t say anything threatening, but his demeanour was threatening.’

‘And you think it could have been him who left this message?’

‘I honestly don’t know… But it feels a bit too coincidental.’

‘Was he left on his own in the shop at all? Would he have had the opportunity to write the message?’

I shake my head, knowing that it was unlikely he did this while I was there. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Does everybody call you Lizzy?’ Ryan asks. ‘Or do some people know you as Elizabeth? Because whoever left the message knows you well enough to call you Lizzy.’

‘Everyone calls me Lizzy,’ I say. ‘The only person who calls me Elizabeth is my mum when she’s cross with me. Which is most of the time,’ I mutter.

‘Okay,’ Ryan replies. ‘I’ll ask Sergeant Llewellyn to have another word with Mr Whittaker. Tell him it’s best that he leaves you alone.’

‘Thank you. Will you also ask him if he knows anything about this message?’

‘I’ll speak to Sergeant Llewellyn,’ Ryan says.

The older officer clears his throat. ‘How did you manage to miss this when you were checking the till earlier? You walked right past the fitting room. Wouldn’t you have noticed the closed curtains and the box lying on the floor?’

I stop myself from glaring at him. I much prefer PC Ryan; at least he seems to believe me. ‘You think I did this? You think I wrote a creepy little note in magnetic letters to myself? You think I want to be here at my workplace, talking to you at five thirty in the morning, instead of tucked up at home in bed, asleep?’

‘Please don’t upset yourself,’ the officer says. ‘We don’t “think” anything, we’re simply trying to work out the sequence of events.’

‘Do you know what?’ I say, scratching the side of my head so hard it hurts. ‘Just forget it. I shouldn’t have called you. I should have said to myself, oh well, some nutter is writing me creepy letters, but it’ll be absolutely fine. What I’ll do is wait until he confronts me face-to-face – maybe with a knife, or maybe with a—’

‘Okay, Lizzy,’ PC Ryan interrupts, his voice annoyingly calm, highlighting my own increasingly hysterical tone. ‘I can see what you’re saying. In light of all the other recent events with the letters and so forth, I think you’re right.’ He turns to his colleague. ‘CSI?’ he asks.

His colleague gives a brief, reluctant nod.

PC Ryan turns back to me. ‘We’ll get CSI to come down to the shop and photograph the letters in situ, take prints.’

I’m surprised by their change of heart. My anger deflates and my nerves flare up once more. They must be worried if they’re getting CSI involved.

‘It’s a pity you touched the box,’ the older officer says.

‘Sorry,’ I reply. ‘I didn’t realise what it was. How long will it take to get the results back?’

‘A rushed submission with the labs takes around three to four days for analysis,’ he says.

‘So this will be a rushed submission?’ I ask.

‘I can’t promise, but probably,’ he replies. ‘I should imagine we’ll also be briefing the neighbourhood team who covers where you live and also the town centre team. That way, if anything else happens, you won’t need to spend time getting them up to speed.’

‘Thank you. Can I tidy up the front of the shop and board up the door before they arrive?’ I stare at the broken glass and the smashed display case. The last thing I feel like doing is clearing it all up, but the quicker I get it done, the quicker I can go home.

‘You’ll need to leave all that until CSI have been,’ Ryan says.

‘When will they get here?’

‘Hopefully within the next few hours.’

‘Okay. So, do I need to stay?’ I ask, my heart sinking at the thought of waiting around for hours.

‘No, that’s okay,’ PC Ryan replies. ‘We can wait for them. I’ll call you when they’re done.’

It feels strange leaving the officers in the shop without me there. But I suppose the place is in safe hands. I wonder if CSI will find anything incriminating. I wonder if Leon Whittaker really could be involved. After my earlier adrenalin rush, I’m suddenly exhausted. I need to get home and lay my head on a pillow. Although whether or not I’ll actually be able to get to sleep is another matter altogether.